Hollow
by Sweet Lunacy
Summary: After the death of a beloved team member, Jenny isn't coping, and Jethro is the only one who notices.
1. Hollow

**A/N: This deals with major character death and adult situations. If you aren't comfortable, please don't read. Jibbs, because I never write anything else in this fandom. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

It was raining the day that Doctor Donald Mallard died. There had been no warning, no obvious signs of distress, nothing to alert his friends that it would be the last time they would see him alive. Nothing to prepare them for the gaping hole caused by his absence.

* * *

Leroy Jethro Gibbs sighed as his phone rang, and he set down the sander in his grip. Why people insisted on bothering him on his days off, he would never know.

"Yeah. Gibbs."

"Agent Gibbs, this is Victoria Mallard."

Gibbs frowned at the older woman's pained voice and instantly stiffened.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Donald. He's...he's gone, Agent Gibbs."

He felt as though he'd been punched, but he had to know.

"How?"

"The paramedics said..." she broke off, her voice cracking, "they said it was a heart attack. I knew you would want to know. I'll be in touch with the details."

"Thank you, Mrs. Mallard. I'm so sorry for your loss."

He hung up, his hands suddenly numb, and he picked up his phone again, punching in a number he knew by heart. This was by far the most difficult call he'd had to make in the last sixteen years.

* * *

Jennifer Shepard was just drying her hair from her shower as the phone rang and she missed the ringing over the loud machine. When she walked into her bedroom, the blinking message icon on her phone alerted her of a missed call and she frowned. The voice of her best agent and former lover filled her ears and her frown only intensified.

"Jen...call me. It's important Please."

There was something about his voice that she didn't like, and she immediately called his number, waiting impatiently for him to answer.

"Jen?"

The lack of his usual greeting threw her off and she paused.

"You called?"

"Jen..."

As he said her name, she realised what she had heard in his voice. He was crying.

"What's happened?"

"Ducky's dead."

Her sharp intake of breath was so sudden that it actually hurt her chest. She nearly dropped her phone in shock and when he spoke next, she could hear the barely-restrained emotion in his voice.

"His mother called me. Heart attack."

She was silent for so long that he thought perhaps he had lost the connection. He glanced at the screen of his phone, checking the reception, and when he saw nothing unusual, he frowned. Her silence was unnerving to him, and he desperately needed to hear her voice.

"Jen?"

"I'm here," she whispered, "Call the team into the office. I want everyone to be together when they find out."

She sat down on her bed as he hung up, her legs no longer able to support her weight. How could this have happened?

* * *

"Hey, McGee, any idea what's going on?"

Tony's voice made his turn, and McGee shook his head.

"Nope. Boss just said to come in. Said it was urgent."

They waited in silence until Ziva, Abby and Palmer entered the squad room. They were quietly discussing what could have happened when Gibbs and Jenny stepped off the elevator, looking more exhausted than any of them had ever seen. Tony frowned as he looked at the pair before turning back to his partner.

"Hey, where's Ducky? Shouldn't he be here if it's this urgent?"

Ziva shrugged. Jenny gestured for them all to sit, and they watched her carefully, looking for any kind of clue as to why they were there.

"This morning, we received a phone call..." Jenny's voice faltered and she blinked hard.

Gibbs placed a supporting hand on the small of her back, something that did not go unnoticed by his team.

"The phone call was from Victoria Mallard."

"Ducky's mom?" McGee asked.

Jenny nodded, leaning into Gibbs slightly.

"Ducky's dead."

Abby gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, and McGee reached for her, wrapping her in a hug. Palmer sank into an empty chair, and Ziva looked to the ground, unwilling to let any of them see her emotion.

"How?" Tony asked quietly.

"Heart attack," Gibbs replied.

"We don't have any more details right now, but as soon as we do, you'll be informed. For now, go home and get some rest. You're all on bereavement leave until further notice," Jenny said, hardly able to speak.

One by one, they all filed out, Abby flinging herself onto Gibbs before she left, and when they had gone, Jenny collapsed into the chair behind Tony's desk. She placed her head in her hands and let her hair fall around her face in a curtain. Gibbs rubbed her shoulders soothingly and she sighed.

"You did fine, Jen."

"I can't believe it, Jethro. I always thought that it would be one of us first. Someone who was actively in the line of danger."

He nodded and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

"I know."

He watched her for a moment before helping her up from the chair.

"Come on. There's nothing for us to do here. Let me take you home."

She let him lead her to the elevator and he never released his grip on her shoulders. She leaned against him heavily, and he was certain that his support was the only thing keeping her upright. He wasn't sure how they made it to her car, but when he directed her to the passenger seat, she didn't protest.

* * *

Jenny was silent during the drive to her house and when he unlocked her door, she didn't release her hold on his arm. He looked at her questioningly and she raised tear-filled eyes to his.

"Don't leave, Jethro. Please."

Without even thinking about it, he nodded. There was no way in hell that he would leave her alone tonight. He followed her inside the door and locked it securely behind him. He excused himself to get a glass of water from her kitchen and she disappeared into her study. As he finished his drink, a loud shattering from her study caused him to run, pulling his weapon as he did.

Jenny was crumpled on the floor of her study, a shattered bottle of scotch next to her, and her entire body was shaking. He put away his gun and knelt next to her, picking up the pieces of glass carefully.

"You hurt?"

She swallowed and shook her head. Her breath was shallow, coming in short gasps, and he forced her to look at him. Her eyes were wide, and he wasn't sure if she could really even see him. He took one of her ice cold hands in his and brought it to his lips.

"Jen, breathe. What is it?"

Even as he asked, he knew it was a stupid question.

"D-Ducky drank scotch," she gasped, indicating the bottle.

He nodded, searching her eyes worriedly. Her breathing was faster now, and he knew that if she didn't calm down, she would end up passing out. He stood, pulling her with him, and swept her into his arms, carrying her to the living room. Setting her down on the couch, he knelt in front of her, brushing her long hair behind her ear.

"Hey...it's okay. I need you to breathe, Jen. Slowly. Can you do that for me?"

She wasn't looking at him and he snapped his fingers in front of her eyes.

"Stay with me, Shepard."

As he had hoped, the use of her surname caught her attention, and she locked her gaze with his. He held her hand and cupped her cheek lightly.

"Come on, Jen. Focus. Breathe in."

She did as he asked, holding in the air. He counted to ten slowly and nodded.

"Breathe out."

The air left her lungs slowly and he smiled.

"Again."

Finally, several agonising minutes later, her breathing had slowed and she looked up at him appreciatively.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He kissed her cheek gently and wrapped her in his arms, hugging her. Jenny gripped his shirt like a lifeline, knowing that he was the only thing keeping her grounded. Her knuckles were white, and he could feel her body shaking. She hadn't cried, not yet, but he wasn't sure how much longer she could hold it in.

Jethro pried her fingers loose and stood, making his way into her study. She didn't ask him why, and when he returned with two glasses and a decanter of bourbon, she understood. He poured a generous amount into each glass, handing it to her silently. As the liquid burned a path down her throat, she offered him a weak smile.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

He took a slow drink of his bourbon, watching her carefully. The way her hands shook did not go unnoticed by him and when she drained the glass in seconds, he frowned. She reached for the decanter, but her hands weren't steady enough to pour the liquor into her glass. He gently took it from her and filled it, placing the bottle on the table behind him. Her glass was empty again within a minute and he shook his head when she reached for the bottle once more.

"Jethro, please."

Again his head shook and she reached around him for the bottle.

"Jen. Slow down."

She looked into his eyes and he saw his own pain reflected in her emerald eyes. It was enough for him to fill her glass again and down his own in the same minute. Maybe, just for tonight, forgetting would be enough.

"Why Ducky, Jethro? Why him?"

He shook his head, taking her hand in his.

"Don't do that, Jen. Overthinking it won't bring him back."

A choked sob escaped her and she covered her mouth with her hand.

"He was more like a father to me than my own father."

He nodded, understanding her completely.

"He was to me, too."

She took another drink and this time, he filled her glass as soon as it was empty. She gave him a look that was filled with such pain it nearly took his breath away.

"I miss him, Jethro."

Her voice broke on his name and he pulled her into his arms, running his hand over her hair. Her tears still hadn't fallen yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time. When she looked up at him, her fingers still held his shirt in a vice-like grip and she brought her lips to his before he could comprehend what had happened. There was a desperation in her kiss that had never been there before and he pulled away from her gently. As much as he wanted to give her what she wanted, he knew that he would never forgive himself if he took advantage of her when she was so clearly distraught.

"Jen. Not like this."

Even through the haze of her grief and liquor, she knew he was right and nodded, laying her head on his chest.

"I'm sorry, Jethro."

"No, Jen. I'm not saying "no" indefinitely. I'm just saying not tonight."

The full implication of his words hit her and she smiled sadly. She stood on unsteady feet and he was there to catch her when she stumbled, her head on his shoulder.

"Will you stay?"

"Jen, I-"

"Not for sex, I just...I can't be alone tonight."

She looked up at him desperately, and her pain smacked into him like a freight train.

"I can't...Jethro, please don't make me sleep alone tonight."

He nodded and lifted her into his arms, carrying her easily up the stairs. He helped her change out of her clothing after he noticed that her fingers were still shaking too badly to undo the buttons on her shirt. Normally, the sight of her undressed in front of him would have led to a night of passionate lovemaking, but as they laid next to each other in the darkness, he finally felt her tears dampening his shirt. He slid his arm around her, pulling her body closer and placed a light kiss on her temple. Her body shook as she cried and he tightened his hold on her, rubbing her back gently.

When she had finally fallen asleep, he brushed away the damp hair sticking to her cheek. She nestled closer into his chest, her head tucked under his chin, not unlike the way she had lain in his arms in Paris, and he kissed her softly.

"I love you, Jen."

If he hadn't been so caught up in his own thoughts and grief, he would have noticed the intake of breath at his words.

* * *

As the casket was lowered into the ground, Jenny felt her legs growing weaker under her. Gibbs noticed her swaying on her feet and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her up. McGee and Tony exchanged a glance at the sight of their team leader and Director standing so closely together and when he noticed how pale Jenny had become, McGee frowned.

Everyone else had left the burial sight except for Jenny, Gibbs, and his team, and Ziva uncharacteristically gave Abby a hug as they walked away slowly. Abby wiped furiously at the tears that hadn't stopped falling and Ziva even wiped away a few of her own as Tony and McGee caught up to them.

"You guys see Gibbs and Director Shepard?"

"Yeah. She's taking it pretty hard," Tony answered.

"Well, they did know Ducky longer than anyone else. Except his mother, of course," Ziva pointed out.

McGee nodded, glancing back at the pair still standing by the grave.

"She looks like she's about to pass out."

They all turned to look at Jenny, and Tony nodded. He'd never seen her look so pale and he could have sworn he could see her shaking even from where he stood. They looked on as Gibbs leaned down to whisper in her ear and she shook her head slowly.

"We should go," Ziva murmured, "They need time to grieve in private. Ducky was like a father to them both. This is undoubtedly difficult."

They nodded in agreement and piled into their respective cars, giving one last glance to the grave of the man they had all loved as a grandfather.

* * *

"Jen...we need to go. There's nothing we can do for him anymore."

His voice was gentle in her ear and she shook her head slowly. He was aware of the eyes of his team on them, and as such, did not press a kiss to her temple as he would have liked.

"I can't leave him here, Jethro."

A quick glance told him that his team had gone and he turned her to face him, looking deep into her eyes.

"He's gone, Jen. We can't bring him back."

"He—he can't be gone," she whispered, "It isn't fair, Jethro. I loved him."

He wrapped her in his arms, kissing the side of her head.

"I know...I loved him, too."

He guided her from the grave site and placed her in the passenger seat of his car. There was no way he trusted her to get safely home and when he pulled into his own driveway half an hour later, she didn't even question it.

* * *

"The Director in?" Gibbs questioned as he passed Cynthia's desk.

She nodded.

"Yes, but she's asked not to be disturbed, Agent Gibbs."

"When has that ever stopped me?" he smirked.

"Agent Gibbs, wait."

Something in her voice stopped him and he turned. Her eyes were serious and he frowned.

"You should know. She's...not doing well. Unless she has something in her office I don't know about, she hasn't eaten in four days. I've asked her every day if she wanted anything when I went for lunch or dinner, and she's declined every time. I don't even think she's been home."

He nodded.

"Thanks for the heads up. I'll try to see what I can do."

He opened the office door and when he saw Jenny standing behind her desk staring at the rain, he silently shut the door. Cynthia had been right when she'd said Jenny hadn't been eating. She'd lost noticeable weight and her clothing hung loosely on her thin frame. Her once shiny hair seemed lifeless and though he couldn't see her face, he was sure there were dark circles under her eyes.

"Jen?"

She didn't move and he stepped closer to her. It was as if he hadn't spoken, and he reached out to touch her. Before his hand made contact, he changed his mind and pulled it back with a frown.

"Jen, what is it? What's wrong?"

"It's raining, Gibbs."

He nodded, though she couldn't see him.

"I see that."

"It was raining the day he died."

Now he understood. She was thinking of Ducky. He hadn't been able to bring himself to go down to autopsy since the doctor's death, and he knew she had thought of little else in the weeks following it.

"When's the last time you had anything to eat?"

"I'm not hungry," she said quietly.

"That's not what I asked."

"Don't remember," she admitted.

He touched her then, lightly placing a hand on her shoulder, and when she turned, he couldn't believe the change in her. Her skin was so pale it was nearly translucent, her eyes framed by dark circles and her eyes, which had once been so bright, seemed hollow and empty.

"Jen...you have to eat."

She shrugged tiredly and sat down at her desk. He touched her cheek briefly before leaving her office, determined to find something, _anything_, that she would actually eat. He couldn't stand to see her like this, and he was going to do whatever it took to bring her back from the edge.

* * *

When he returned to find Jenny's office empty, he frowned. He walked back out to find Cynthia just leaving MTAC, and when she saw him, she beckoned him over.

"Agent Gibbs, have you seen Director Shepard?"

"Was just about to ask you the same question."

The young assistant shook her head.

"I went to use the restroom and when I came back, she was gone. I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs."

"Not your fault, Cynthia."

He walked down the stairs into the squad room, scanning it for his favourite redheaded boss. She was nowhere to be seen and he tossed a balled up piece of paper at the back of Tony's head.

"DiNozzo, have you seen the Director?"

"Negative, boss. Haven't seen her for a few days, actually. Her car was here this morning, though. Maybe she's at lunch?"

"She eats in her office," Gibbs pointed out.

"Restroom?"

"Cynthia just came from there. Not in MTAC, either."

Tony frowned.

"Should we be worried, boss?"

"I don't know."

Gibbs pulled out his phone, dialing Jenny's number. It went straight to voicemail, indicating that she had turned it off, and he sighed.

"Jen, where the hell are you?"

He clicked his phone shut and tossed it onto his desk furiously.

"Did she say anything when you were in her office?" Cynthia asked.

He shook his head.

"Just talked about how it was raining, and how it had been raining the..."

Suddenly, he knew without a doubt where she had gone and he grabbed his phone. He pulled on his jacket as he headed to the elevator and Tony frowned.

"Boss?"

"I'll be back."

"Should we put a BOLO out on the Director's car?"

"Negative. I know where she is. Stay here."

As the elevator doors shut, Tony and Cynthia exchanged a confused glance. Shrugging, she made her way back up the stairs, hoping that Jenny was okay and that Gibbs found her safely.

* * *

Jenny couldn't tell if the water on her face was a result of the rain or her tears, and frankly, she didn't really care. Her clothing was soaked, the skirt sticking to her legs in a slightly uncomfortable way, but she wasn't concerned with a little physical discomfort. She took a drink from the bottle at her side and drained it, tossing the glass aside. It landed a few feet away from her and she closed her eyes tiredly.

She knew she'd been drinking too much, isolating herself from anyone and anything that came near her, but she couldn't stop. She'd felt absolutely numb since Ducky's death and not even the burn of liquor could reawaken her. Still, it helped stop the screaming thoughts in her head and so she drank herself into oblivion every night, desperately needing the few hours of sleep it provided.

Her body had been cold when she'd first arrived, amplified by the pouring rain, but the longer she'd stayed, the less she'd noticed. She pulled her knees closer to her chest as she laid on the had ground, her head inches from the cold marble stone. She knew she should probably go indoors, but she didn't care. It had to be better than the numbness she'd been feeling. Anything was better than that.

* * *

Gibbs could just barely make out Ducky's grave in the downpour, and when his eyes landed on the figure laying on the ground next to it, his heart broke. He made his way slowly over, not wanting to startle her and as he looked down at her, he wiped the water from his face,

"Jen?"

She turned her head slowly, but didn't look at him.

"What are you doing here, Jen?"

He sat down next to her and he noticed that her body was shaking. He was freezing himself, so he knew that she had to be as well.

"I miss him, Jethro."

He reached out to touch her hair and she jumped at the contact. She still hadn't moved and when his skin touched hers, he frowned. She was ice cold, yet she didn't seem to notice in the slightest.

"I know. I miss him, too. Jen, we have to go inside. It's freezing out here."

She frowned and he reached out to help her sit up. He pulled her thin body into his arms and kissed her temple gently.

"Come on, Jen. Let's go."

"Do you think he's happy? Wherever he is?"

He nodded.

"Absolutely. I know you loved him and I know how hard this is on you, but killing yourself won't bring him back. I lost Ducky, I can't lose you too, Jen. I need you here."

She laughed bitterly.

"You don't _need_ me, Jethro. You've never needed me."

He forced her to look at him, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I've always needed you, Jen. I need you like I need air."

Gibbs kissed her gently and when she pulled back to look at him, he smiled.

"Now, can we go inside? Cynthia's worried sick about you, and I'm freezing my ass off out here."

She nodded and he stood, pulling her with him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, smiling when he felt her rest her head on his shoulder as he led her to his car. She frowned and he shook his head.

"You're not driving. You've had too much bourbon."

"How did you-"

He smirked.

"I could taste it when I kissed you. Now, get in."

* * *

The knock at her door caused her to curse under her breath as she made her way downstairs, wondering who on earth could be at her door at 0300. When the door opened, revealing a very wet Gibbs, she smiled curiously.

"What are you doing here?"

"Wanted to check and make sure you're okay."

She smiled, not quite believing him.

"I'm fine, as you can see. I'd be better if I was in bed."

He arched an eyebrow at her and she quickly backtracked.

"Sleeping, Jethro."

"Mind if I come in? Kinda wet out here."

Sighing, she stepped back to allow him in. He slipped off his shoes, not wanting to track water all over her house and she smiled appreciatively. When she offered to get him a towel, he grabbed her wrist as she walked away, stopping her movement.

"Jen. Earlier today...you said I didn't need you. What made you think that?"

"Paris."

"You left me," he reminded her.

"And you didn't stop me," she said quietly, "I would have given anything for you to come after me, but you didn't. You let me go. I regret leaving you every single day, but do you know how much it hurt that you didn't follow me? I told you I loved you and you mocked me. You said "That'll be the day", and then when I left, nothing. I figured that told me all I needed to know about how you felt about me."

He frowned. He hadn't even considered the possibility that she'd wanted him to stop her from leaving. When she'd first told him she loved him, it had thrown him off. He'd never thought she seriously loved him and then by the time he had come to realise the truth, she was gone. Her leaving had nearly destroyed him, but he hadn't thought about what it had done to her. He'd spent so many years being angry with her that it had never crossed his mind that she'd done the same.

She was watching him now, observing the wide array of emotions that passed through his eyes and when she turned away, he reached out again. His hand caught her wrist and she glanced down at it, her eyes puzzled.

"Jen, wait. I didn't know. I didn't go after you because I thought that it wouldn't do any good. I thought you'd already made up your mind that you were better off without me. You killed me when you left. If I could do it all over again, I would definitely go after you."

She smiled sadly.

"If I could do it all over again, you wouldn't have had to."

He reached out to touch her face gently and she jumped at his wet skin. He held her gaze steadily and when he spoke next, the pain in his voice was nearly palpable.

"Have you eaten anything today?"

She didn't answer, but her silence told him all he needed. She stepped back from him and when she sat down on the couch, he hovered over her shoulder.

"Can I sit?"

A slight nod was all he received and when he reached out to take her hand, she didn't pull away.

"Please, Jen. You have to take care of yourself. Ducky wouldn't want to see you like this. He loved you like a daughter."

"I'm not hungry."

"Humour me."

She sighed. Emerald met sapphire as she looked at him and when she offered him a small smile, he returned it gratefully.

"I will tomorrow. Can we let that be enough?"

"Sure."

Jenny stared down at their entwined hands and as his thumb moved back and forth over her skin, she focused on the sensation. He could tell that she was thinking, no doubt analyzing the situation they found themselves in, and he tilted her head up with his finger.

"Jen?"

She raised an eyebrow in question and he continued.

"Don't overthink it."

"What are you-"

Her words were cut short as his lips found hers and she curled her fingers around his shirt. The fabric was still wet and it slipped from her grip, causing her to frown. One of his hands found her hair and when he gently pushed her back against the couch, she slid her hands under his shirt. He pulled his wet shirt from his body and tossed it on the ground, pretending he didn't feel the cold on his skin.

The couch wasn't the most ideal place for their current activity, but neither of them wanted to address it, fearing that the spell would be broken. Jenny threaded her fingers through his hair and when his lips found her throat, her head fell back as she gasped. He sucked her skin between his teeth, smiling when she moaned and her grip in his hair tightened.

His hand slid up the satin nightgown she wore and when he pulled it from her body, she shivered. Whether it was from cold or from the sensations his mouth and hands were creating, she didn't know.

"Jethro..." she whispered.

His own clothing was a bit more difficult. After being soaked with rain, the fabric clung to his skin and after a few minutes of struggling, the jeans and boxers found themselves in the pile next to the couch. He stopped kissing her for a moment and when she opened her eyes, he stared into them seriously.

"Jen. If this isn't what you want, if you want me to stop...tell me now."

She pulled him back down to her, pulling his bottom lip between her teeth.

"If you stop now, I'll kill you myself."

Jenny moaned as he slowly entered her and when she had adjusted to the feeling, she nodded, giving him a signal to continue. Her hips met his every thrust and his fingers gripped her tight enough to bruise. He lowered his mouth to her breast, wrapping his lips around her and she jerked in his arms. He smirked as his name fell from her lips in a breathless whisper and when she shattered beneath him, he wasn't far behind.

He rested his head against hers, and as she stared up at him, he lightly kissed her. Weeks of feeling numb had disappeared as he touched her and held her in his arms in a way that even alcohol hadn't been able to accomplish. As if he could read her thoughts, Gibbs frowned as she sat up and pulled her clothing back on.

"Jen?"

She glanced at him, but said nothing.

"You okay?"

"I was just thinking. Ever since...ever since Ducky...I've felt so lost. So empty. Like I couldn't feel anything. Everything was numb."

He dressed quickly, thankful that his clothing had dried somewhat, and pulled her into his arms. He cradled her against his chest and placed a kiss to her temple. She leaned into him and smiled sadly when she felt his hand smooth over her hair.

"I wish you had told me."

She shook her head.

"That's just it. I couldn't. I didn't know how. But...tonight. It helped. Being with you made me feel things I hadn't felt in a long time. It made me feel...alive again. I've—I've missed you, Jethro."

He glanced down at her, feeling the exhaustion radiating from her.

"I've missed you too, Jen. You know, Ducky always said we were being stupid by pretending that we didn't need each other."

She moved out of his embrace and watched him carefully. He seemed sincere and she glanced down at her hands.

"He did?"

"Yep. Be a shame if we didn't follow his advice, don't you think?"

Jenny stood, making her way to the stairs. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, but when she turned on the bottom step, she smiled.

"Will you stay?"

He crossed the room in three steps and pulled her into his arms. She rested her head against his chest and breathed in his familiar scent of sawdust and bourbon.

"As long as you want me to."

Her smile was brighter than anything he'd seen since Ducky's death, and he allowed her to pull him up the stairs. When they were wrapped in each other's arms minutes later, Jenny raised up from his chest and fixed him with a look he couldn't quite name.

"Jethro?"

"Hmm?"

"The day...the day Ducky died...you stayed here with me."

He nodded, not sure where she was going with this.

"That night...did I imagine it or did you tell me...you loved me?"

He pulled her down to him and kissed her softly.

"I never stopped, Jen."

"Say it again."

He smiled and framed her face with his hand, brushing her hair behind her ear.

"I love you, Jen."

She settled back against him and he could feel her falling asleep. He wasn't sure how they were going to navigate their lives together, or their lives without their beloved Ducky, but he was absolutely certain that he loved her. He was absolutely certain that she would need his help coming to terms with her grief, and he would be there every step of the way. There was no way he was going to lose her again.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think!**


	2. Make a Move

**A/N: Here's the second installment. I hope you enjoy! Jibbs all the way, because...well, duh. That's all I ever write.**

* * *

Jenny stood just outside the sliding door, staring at it as if she wished it would combust purely by her will alone. Though she knew she needed to, she couldn't force her feet to take another step forward. Her heart was racing, and the tightening in her chest was enough to alert her that a major panic attack was almost certainly inevitable. After a few more moments of debating, she threw her hand over her mouth, turned on her heel, and ran for the elevator. There was no way she could do this today.

* * *

When McGee stepped into the elevator after leaving Abby's lab, the last thing he expected to see was Jenny Shepard leaning against the wall, her face paler than fresh snow, with her eyes closed. At the sound of his voice, she jumped slightly and fixed him with a look that Gibbs would have been proud of.

"Are you okay, ma'am?"

She nodded, and just as he stepped from the lift, she spoke, her voice quiet.

"Tell Gibbs that I need to see him."

"Yes, ma'am."

The doors closed, and McGee scanned the squad room for his team leader. When his eyes landed on the silver-haired agent, he made his way discreetly over to him.

"Boss, Director Shepard needs to see you."

He headed toward the stairs when McGee's voice stopped him.

"Elevator, boss."

As Gibbs changed directions, McGee looked over at Tony, his expression puzzled.

"Have you guys noticed anything different about the Director?"

Ziva frowned and Tony shook his head.

"Not really. We don't see her much."

"Exactly," McGee continued, "Doesn't that seem strange to you? No yelling at Gibbs, no supervising our cases...nothing. She hardly ever comes out of her office anymore."

"He is right," Ziva said thoughtfully.

They all turned to the elevator, each wondering what was taking place behind those closed silver doors.

* * *

Gibbs glanced down at Jenny as he stepped into the elevator and frowned. She was sitting on the floor of the lift, her knees against her chest, and her arms clasped around them.

"Jen?"

He hit the emergency switch and as soon as the lights powered down, he sat next to her. She didn't protest and when she laid her head on his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around her.

"I couldn't do it, Jethro," she murmured.

"Do what?"

"I tried. I really did."

"Do _what_, Jen?"

"I couldn't go to autopsy."

He nodded understandingly. Palmer had taken over as ME since Ducky's death, and Gibbs himself had only been down to autopsy once in the two months that had passed.

"To be fair, autopsy never was your strong point."

"It's not funny, Gibbs."

Though she tried to sound stern, he could tell that she didn't really mean it. She was simply going through the motions. She'd been doing that quite often, if he were truly honest with himself. True, she'd yelled at him once or twice in her office, but he had been able to see that her heart wasn't in it.

"I know, Jen. I miss him, too."

"I just feel so lost. Not only did I lose my biological father, now I've lost the closest person I've had since. I don't know what to do."

As she rested her head on his shoulders, he placed a light kiss to her hair. The scent of her perfume was much stronger than he'd remembered it being, and he frowned. He stood and hit the emergency switch, holding out his hand as the elevator hummed to life. She grasped it, and he was painfully aware of how tight her grip was, as if she didn't have the strength to stand on her own.

Just before the elevator doors opened, Gibbs leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips. She returned it halfheartedly and when she swept by him without a word, he frowned again. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but his gut was telling him that something was wrong with her.

* * *

Jenny sat behind her desk, a glass of bourbon in front of her, and placed her head in her hands. She'd had a headache for most of the day, and even the dim lighting of her office was making her want to cry. Her hand was shaking as she raised the glass to her lips and when she drained it seconds later, they were no more steady than when she'd began.

Two more glasses later and the blinding pain in her head was finally starting to ease. Though she knew that what she was doing wasn't exactly healthy, she lacked the ability to stop. She slipped her glasses on and picked up the first report in the stack of fifty sitting on her desk, trying to mentally prepare herself for the most boring part of her job. The door to her office swung open, but she didn't bother to look up. There was only one person who ever disrespected her door like that.

"Need your signature."

She kept her eyes down and nodded.

"Add it to the rest."

Gibbs set the file down on top of the towering stack and watched her closely. Something was off with her, and he was determined to find out what it was. Their relationship was still in the early stages, and they were still trying to navigate how to handle it in the midst of their grief and in a professional capacity. He knew that their past still lingered in the back of her mind, and he was going to do anything to help her put it behind her.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine."

She didn't look at him, but he still saw the slight twitch of her right eye. He didn't know whether he should call her out on the lie, or if it was best to leave it.

"Jen."

Finally, she raised her eyes to his, viridian green locking with cobalt blue, and she sighed.

"What?"

"Don't lie to me."

There was no anger in his words, but they were layered with concern. Standing, she fixed him with a look he couldn't identify. She stared at him for a moment and when she spoke, the anger in her own voice more than made up for the lack in his.

"What do you want me to say, Jethro? That I feel like I'm drowning? I can't escape the screaming in my head, and as ridiculous as it sounds, I've even tried meditating. But the last thing I need is more time alone with myself. I know I'm not unique, we're all going through the same pain, but it's just so fucking hard. No one told me it could get this bad this fast, and I don't want to break down, but I know there's nothing I can do to stop it. I hope to god that this isn't normal, crying and screaming on the floor, but I'm still hollow. If one more person tells me that I'm okay, I'm going to lose what's left of my mind."

Her voice was unsteady, and her swearing in the office told him that she was dangerously close to the edge. It also told him that she was drunk. There were tears in her eyes and she knew that if she blinked, they would fall. She kept her eyes locked on his until she couldn't stand it anymore and when she spoke, the pain in her voice was almost palpable.

"Jethro...what's wrong with me?"

She blinked then, and when he saw the tears fall, he crossed the room, wrapping his arms around her. Her body was still, not even reaching up to touch him, and when he stepped back, his eyes were sad.

"You're grieving, Jen. It doesn't mean that anything is wrong with you, but it is something that you have to deal with."

Her tears fell faster and he pulled her closer to him, running a hand over her hair.

"Shh...I know."

"I-I don't understand it, Jethro. How can a person be perfectly fine one day and then gone the next? Why can't his soul—or whatever it is that makes us who we are—just get back in his body and be alive again? Why did this happen? He'll never have tea, never read _Don Quixote _at midnight again, he'll—I just don't understand why."

Her words were slightly muffled by his chest, but the pain was clear as a bell. He kissed her temple lightly, and she raised her head to look up at him.

"I'm sorry."

He shook his head and leaned down to brush his lips against hers. He could taste the salt from her tears and he led her to the couch, forcing her to sit.

"Stay here. I'll be right back."

She nodded, and when he closed her door, she curled up on her couch and finally let her tears fall unchecked.

* * *

Tony made his way up to Director Shepard's office and smiled when he noticed Cynthia was out to lunch. Now he knew without a doubt that his boss was there, and raised his hand to knock. The door was slightly ajar and just as he was about to knock, he heard the voice of the Director.

"Jethro...what's wrong with me?"

Tony frowned. He knew he shouldn't be listening to this, knew that he would have his ass handed to him if he were to be discovered, but he didn't turn away. When he heard the answer to her question, given in a quiet yet understanding voice, he felt an intense sadness for the woman in charge of the agency.

"You're grieving, Jen. It doesn't mean that anything is wrong with you, but it is something that you have to deal with."

All of McGee's observations about her suddenly made perfect sense. Her lack of involvement with their cases, the lack of fighting between her and Gibbs, the way she kept her eyes downcast as she walked...it all came crashing into place. Tony had known how close she was to the doctor, that he was like a father, and he couldn't understand how difficult his death must have been for her.

Jenny's next words were quieter, muffled somehow, but he was still able to make them out.

"I-I don't understand it, Jethro. How can a person be perfectly fine one day and then gone the next? Why can't his soul—or whatever it is that makes us who we are—just get back in his body and be alive again? Why did this happen? He'll never have tea, never read _Don Quixote _at midnight again, he'll—I just don't understand why."

Deciding he had done enough eavesdropping, Tony turned and made his way back out to the catwalk. This wasn't something he could help with, but he knew that he could at least spare her the embarrassment of having the details of her personal life being overheard. He had to admit though, it helped him see her as something more than the cold-hearted woman he'd always thought her to be.

* * *

Jenny jumped slightly when Gibbs re-opened her office door and he smiled. It wasn't often that he caught her off-guard, so he wanted to relish the moment. He handed her the cup of coffee he'd brought and she frowned even as her cold fingers closed around it.

"What's this for?"

"Thought you might need it."

"Meaning?"

"You're drunk," he said simply.

He expected her to deny it, to show some anger at being accused of drinking on the job, but she simply shrugged, taking a long drink. As she swallowed, he scanned her office and even in her inebriated state, she knew he was searching for something.

"What are you looking for?"

"Your knife. Where is it?"

She frowned.

"Why?"

"You know why."

She sighed, and glared at him. He didn't back down, but he couldn't stop the feeling of pride that he felt. He'd taught her well, and it showed. His phone rang and he held up a finger, signaling that they would continue in a moment. As he spoke, Jenny placed her head in her hands and when he hung up, she glanced at him through her fingers.

"Gotta go. We'll talk later."

* * *

Hours or days later (Jenny never really knew which), she found herself walking down the steps of his basement, bourbon in hand.

"Jethro?"

"Here."

His voice was to her left, and she turned, her vision swimming. She'd finished one bottle outside in her car as she had debated on going to him, and it was obvious even to her that she was beyond drunk. She stumbled as she took a step and steadied herself on the shell of his boat.

"Jen? You okay?"

His words came to her distorted, as if she were underwater, and she nodded slowly. He gently took her by the arm and led her to the work table, searching her eyes worriedly.

"I brought bourbon."

"I noticed. I think you've had more than enough."

Jenny laughed and there was a reckless hysteria to it that he didn't like. In the depths of her eyes, he could see the self-hatred and despair that never seemed to leave her, knowing it had only been amplified in the past two months. Before she knew what she was doing, she had grabbed his shoulders and brought her lips to his.

"Jen..." he pulled back, looking at her seriously, "hold on. We still need to talk."

She shook her head, her long red hair falling in her face.

"Not now. Please, Jethro."

Her hands pulled him closer and when he still wouldn't kiss her in return, she frowned.

"You don't want me?"

"It isn't that, Jen. You're not thinking straight. You're upset. I don't want to hurt you."

"I want you to," her voice was soft, but the anger was unmistakable, "I want you to fuck me so hard that it hurts."

She'd never spoken to him like that, and he blinked in surprise. He knew that she'd been struggling ever since Ducky's death, but he'd be lying if he said he had seen this coming. He also knew that she didn't have the best coping mechanisms. She rarely swore, unless it was when they were in bed, and her doing it now was unsettling to him.

"Jen...please. Go upstairs and get some sleep. You're drunk, you're upset, and you're making rash decisions."

He knew as soon as her eyes flashed that he'd said the wrong thing. She jerked out of his grasp and when she stumbled up the steps, he frowned.

"Jen, wait."

"No. I think we've said enough tonight."

The front door opened, slamming shut, and he knew he'd messed up. He shouldn't have let her walk away. He knew she was smart enough not to drive when she'd been drinking, but he hoped that she would at least call him when she got home. Not wanting to leave it up to chance, however, he pulled out his phone, texting her quickly.

_Call me when you get home. Be safe. Love you._

* * *

The first thing on Jenny's mind when she stumbled from the taxi up to her house was a warm bath. While she ran the water, she frantically searched her kitchen for something sharp. Her dishes taunted her with their pristine white surface and as she pulled a plate from the cabinet, she screamed. The dish flew from her hand, shattering as it hit the floor.

Unable to stop now, she threw every dish and glass her hand landed on, no longer fighting the tears. When she picked up a coffee cup emblazoned with her name, she paused. It had been a gift from Ducky after her first week as director. She set it carefully on the table and picked her way across the floor.

Finally, she found the knife she'd hidden under her desk and made her way back into her bathroom. The water was perfect, and she shut off the tap, letting the liquid slip through her fingers. Her phone chirped, signaling a missed text, and she frowned. No one ever texted her. She read the text, nearly laughing, and sank down in the water. Her clothing clung to her skin and she briefly wondered why she hadn't removed it.

She sliced the skin of her wrist and immediately submerged it in the water, letting the stinging sensation remind her that she was alive. Her phone rang and she reached out to answer it, ignoring the blood dripping from her wrist.

"Shepard."

"Jen, you didn't call me when you got home. Are you safe?"

"Yeah. I'm...I'm fine."

The water was beginning to make her sleepy, or...was it the blood loss? Her concentration was fading in and out, even breathing was becoming a struggle, and she fought to speak.

"Jethro, I have to go."

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing."

"Jen. What's wrong?"

Her eyes slipped closed, and her head fell back against the tub. She didn't even care about her hair being wet, and when her phone dropped from her hand, she didn't hear Jethro's voice calling her name.

* * *

Gibbs swore as he hung up his phone and grabbed his keys. He was so stupid. He should have never let Jenny leave his house in the state she was in. She was so obviously in pain and she had needed him to help her.

When he pulled up to her house and made his way through her unlocked door, he frowned. Jenny always locked her door. Maybe she had known that he would come after her, maybe she had known that she would be too drunk to navigate the steps and left it for him.

"Jen?"

Her kitchen light was on, and he made his way silently through the house, frowning when he entered the kitchen. The room was in shambles. Broken dishes and glass glittered on every surface, but he saw one cup that had been untouched. He recognised it as the one Ducky had given her, and he smiled sadly. Even in her anger, she hadn't been able to break the one tangible reminder she had of the doctor.

He knew that after a long day, Jenny enjoyed a hot bath, and he made his way up to her bathroom. Knocking on the door, he called her name softly, not wanting to scare her. There was no answer, and something in his gut told him that there was something very wrong here. He pushed the door open, swearing when he saw her.

Eyes closed, her pale arm dripping blood, laying in the tub fully clothed, was Jenny. Her phone was on the floor next to her and he rushed to her side. He could just barely make out the shallow rise and fall of her chest and he carefully pulled her from the water.

"Jen. Jenny, come on. Don't you dare die. Jen!"

He lightly tapped her face with the back of his hand and wrapped a towel over the cut. It wasn't deep, but the alcohol she had consumed had thinned her blood considerably. Her eyes opened slowly, and although they were slightly glazed over, they were still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. She frowned as she looked up at him as he cradled her in his arms.

"Jen, what the hell were you thinking?"

"W-what happened?"

He sighed and ran his hand through her damp hair, kissing her forehead.

"You don't remember?"

She weakly shook her head and he held her arm up in front of her eyes. She winced when she saw it, and he couldn't help noticing the tears that lingered. The cut had stopped bleeding and he maneuvered her body so that he could stand and lifted her to her feet.

"Jen, I'm sorry. I never should have let you leave. I knew how upset you are, and I didn't want to make it worse. But I should have made sure you were safe."

She shook her head and he led her into the bedroom, searching her room for dry clothes.

"You won't need stitches," he said from her closet.

He pulled out an old pair of sweatpants and picked up a t-shirt, frowning. The fabric was well worn, and it was much too large to be hers.

"Is this my shirt?"

Jenny glanced at it and nodded silently. He'd never noticed how much she talked until she'd gone eerily quiet. He wanted to hear her voice, even if she screamed at him, and he wrapped his arms around her waist gently.

"Talk to me, Jen. Please."

She turned in his arms and looked up at him, her green eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Can we sit first?"

He nodded and after she had changed her clothing, she sat down on the bed, leaning into his warm embrace.

"I told you most of it already. I haven't felt this lost in so long. Not even after Paris, and that was one of the worst times of my life. Everywhere I look at work reminds me of Ducky. He deserved better than this. He should still be here. If anyone deserved to die, it was me. Not him. All Ducky ever did was help people. All I ever do is hurt them."

He ran his fingers through her hair and sighed.

"That's bullshit, Jen. You deserve to be happy just as much as anyone else. If you died...I don't know what I would do. I need you. I told you that."

She rested her head on his shoulder and when he pushed her back so that she was laying down, she smiled sadly. He laid next to her and she curled into his side, burying her head in his chest.

"Will you stay?"

He nodded and kissed her hair.

"Of course. But you have to promise me something."

"What?" she frowned.

"Please don't ever hurt yourself like that again. Talk to me before you do anything. I don't want to lose you. I love you."

She raised her head and looked at him, confusion filling her emerald eyes.

"How?"

"How what?"

"How can you still love me? After everything I've done to you, how can you still love me?"

He kissed her again and smiled.

"When you left, I didn't think I would ever forgive you. But after a while, I realised that it was probably for the best if I let go of all of the anger I had about the situation. Then when you came back into my life, I knew that I could never stop loving you. No matter what you'd done, I still loved you just as much as I did then."

Jenny kissed him and settled back into his arms. His hands were light on her body and she was amazed that hands so calloused could still be so gentle. She brought one to her lips and kissed it, turning it up so that she placed light kisses on his palm.

"For the record, I love you, too."

He could feel her falling asleep in his arms and tightened his hold. He knew that her nightmares would wake her in a few hours, and he intended to be there for her when it happened. No amount of pain would keep him from her and he was determined to make her realise that she was never alone and that she did deserve to be happy. Even if it took the rest of their lives.

* * *

**A/N: Reviews are love.**


	3. Demons

**A/N: Here's chapter three. I'm not sure how many more, nor how often I'll be able to update. My work schedule is about to become hectic, so I do apologise. Hope you enjoy! Deals with mature themes.**

* * *

Gibbs frowned as he quietly moved about the Director's office, counting at least six bottles of bourbon. It was strange, being here without Jenny, but it needed to be done before she could stop him. Placing each of the bottles in the plastic trash bag he'd brought with him, he smiled sadly as he closed her office door behind himself. Maybe this would be enough to help her. God knows, _something_ had to help her.

* * *

"Cynthia, could you send Agent Gibbs to my office, please?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Jenny was furious. Absolutely, irrevocably, irrationally furious. Who in the world did he think he was? As soon as her door opened, she glared at him, not even caring who saw her.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Sit down," she hissed.

He did as ordered, a frown creasing his features and as he took in her shaking hands, her pale skin and her tired eyes, he understood.

"How dare you?"

"What?" he asked innocently.

"You know damn well _what_. You threw away my bourbon. Who the hell do you think you are?"

He shrugged, not letting her anger get to him. He didn't much care if she was angry with him. It happened often enough and he knew that she would eventually get over it. The only thing that mattered was that she was safe.

"Don't _ever_ come in my office without me present."

"Are you angry because of the bourbon or because I was on your turf?"

"Both."

"Jen, we both know that you needed to slow down. Yeah, it might have been a bit much, but would you have listened any other way?"

Her eyes flashed dangerously and for the first time, he was worried. Maybe he had gone too far. She sighed and it was as if every last reserve of her energy left her body.

"Please leave."

"Jen-"

"Now."

He nodded silently, giving her one last concerned look as he closed the door. She placed her head in her hands and ran her fingers furiously through her hair. This was going to be a long day...

* * *

As she wandered around her empty house, Jenny cursed under her breath. Jethro, it seemed, had not only removed the liquor from her office, but her home as well. She'd searched in vain for anything that might have been left behind, but had come up empty handed every time. Her hands had been shaking horribly all day and as she had left her office, the trembling had taken over her entire body. Her fiery hair was damp with sweat and her mouth was unbearably dry. Unsure of how much longer she could stand it, she made her way to her study, looking for the bottle of bourbon she'd hidden in the desk drawer.

It was gone, not that she had expected otherwise, and she sobbed. Pulling out her phone, she punched the button to call him, cursing him each time it rang. Her tears mixed with sweat as she sat on the floor, rocking back and forth as the spasms jerked her body.

"Yeah, Gibbs."

"I hate you."

"Jen?"

"How could you do this?"

On his end of the line, Gibbs frowned. It was a moment before her meaning clicked and he sighed.

"I had to. You were dangerously close to losing it."

She shook her head, long hair sticking to her face.

"Jethro, I can't do this."

"Yes, you can."

"No," her voice caught and she faltered, "I ca—Jethro, p-please. This is killing me. It hurts so much."

The pain in her voice made him close his eyes and when he opened them again, he ran a hand through his hair.

"Do you want me to come by?"

"I'll leave the door unlocked."

* * *

He found her in the study, sitting against the desk, with her head on her knees and she didn't look up when he entered. She had to have heard his footsteps, but her eyes stayed closed, her long hair falling like a waterfall. He approached her carefully, looking down at her curiously.

"Jen?"

She glanced up at him and he sat down next to her. She was shaking terribly and he could see the slight sheen of sweat on her pale skin. He knew she was going through withdrawals, knew it was painful as hell, but he also knew it was something she had to endure alone. He only hoped he could help somehow.

Her head fell onto his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around her. She glanced over to him and when she spoke, he could detect a hint of fear in her voice.

"What's happening to me?"

"Withdrawals. Pretty strong, but once you're through it, it won't seem so bad."

She whimpered and as he held her, he forced her to look in his eyes.

"You're strong. You'll get through this."

He placed a kiss to her lips and stood, pulling her to her feet. Puzzled, she frowned and he led her to the door.

"You need to lie down. It'll be easier."

She nodded, not really comprehending his words and as he half-carried her up the stairs, she was angry to feel tears falling from her eyes. She couldn't even go one day without crying. Wiping them away with a hand that refused to be steady, she whimpered as she collapsed on the bed. Gibbs covered her in a blanket and placed a kiss on her hair. He sat on the other side, not wanting to touch her for fear of hurting her, and when she said his name, he sought out her eyes.

"How l-long does this last?"

"Depends. Hopefully not long."

Her body shook as a spasm overtook her muscles and she closed her eyes tightly. He ran his fingers through her damp hair and as the trembling intensified, he frowned.

"It'll be okay, Jen."

Her voice was so soft when she spoke that he didn't catch what she'd said. When he asked her to repeat it, she reached for his hand.

"I'm scared."

"I know. But I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I'm right here."

He raised her hand to his lips, pretending that he didn't notice the way her entire body shook and when she curled up next to him, he wrapped her in his arms.

"Try to sleep, Jen."

She nodded against his chest and when he glanced down a few moments later, he found that she had fallen into a restless sleep. Still, he supposed, it was better than nothing.

* * *

Opening her eyes, Jenny groaned at the bright light and frowned when her outstretched arm landed on the cold bed next to her. She could have sworn that Jethro had been with her when she'd fallen asleep, but the pristine blankets next to her suggested otherwise. Deciding that a shower would help her immensely, she stood slowly, making her way carefully to her bathroom. A shower sounded absolutely wonderful.

Thick steam filled the room and when she stepped under the water, she sighed in relief. She soon found that she didn't want to leave the warmth of the water and when she forced herself to shut off the tap thirty minutes later, the moisture in the air was so heavy that she found it difficult to breathe. Wrapping herself in a towel, she made her way down to her study, searching for her phone.

She found the small device on the floor next to her desk and the blinking light alerted her of a missed call. Frowning, she listened to the voicemail and it only served to increase her confusion.

"Hey, Jen. Sorry I missed your call. Call me when you get this. Love you."

What in the world was going on? She had spent the night alone? How could that have been possible? She very clearly remembered Jethro holding her as she'd lain on the bed and she quickly dialed his number.

"Yeah. Gibbs."

"You left?"

"Jen?"

"Who else would it be? Why didn't you stay this morning?"

"What are you talking about? I've been in my basement since I left work yesterday."

Had she seriously imagined the entire night? Could she have seriously dreamt up even his side of their conversation? She was silent for a long moment, and when she heard Jethro's voice calling her name, she frowned.

"Jethro, I—I must have had a bad dream. I'll talk to you later."

"Jen, wait. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she lied, thankful that he couldn't see her eyes, "I'll call you tonight."

She hung up the phone before he could respond and sank down into the chair behind her desk. Her head fell into her hands and when her tears fell onto the smooth wood, she didn't even care.

* * *

Gibbs frowned as he stared at the phone in his hand and when he tried to call Jenny back, her phone rang for what seemed to be an endless amount of time. Her voicemail finally picked up and he hung up without leaving a message. She probably needed space, and he would happily give it if it made her feel safer. He decided that he would wait for her to call him. Maybe they both needed the weekend to process how they felt. He only hoped it was the right thing to do.

* * *

As he walked up the steps to Jenny's office, Gibbs sighed. It had been a long weekend, made even longer without seeing his favourite redhead, but now it was all going to be better. He'd used the excuse of needing her signature to nearly sprint up to the catwalk, but in all honesty, he had purely wanted to see her again.

"Agent Gibbs, wait."

He turned at Cynthia's voice, giving her his trademark stare.

"What?"

"The Director's not here."

His confusion must have shown on his face, because she offered him a smile in apology.

"Where is she?"

The young woman shrugged.

"I don't know. She didn't come in this morning."

Nodding once, Gibbs turned on his heel and made his way back down to the bullpen and grabbed his jacket.

"Going for coffee."

His team nodded to show that they'd heard him and as he headed for the elevator, he couldn't ignore the feeling of dread that had crept up on him. Jenny had never missed work voluntarily, and never without letting someone know about it. What was going on?

* * *

He broke nearly every traffic law on the drive to Jenny's house, but he didn't care. As he searched for the spare key that he knew she kept hidden nearby, Gibbs couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't called him all weekend. Two minutes later, key in hand, he unlocked the heavy oak door and shut it carefully behind him.

The house was dark, even in the daylight, and he wandered room to room, looking for her. Finding the first floor deserted, he headed to her bedroom, sending up a silent prayer to whatever deity existed. When he pushed open her bedroom door, he could barely make out the shape of her body underneath the thick blankets, and he quickly crossed the room to her.

"Jenny? Wake up."

She turned away from his voice and he frowned, reaching out to touch her.

"Jen."

"Go away," she murmured, her voice muffled by the pillow.

"Why aren't you at work?"

She shrugged and pulled the blankets more tightly around her. He watched her for a moment, and sat down on the edge of her bed.

"Are you sick?"

"No."

"What's wrong?"

Jenny finally turned to face him, and the paleness of her skin stood out starkly against her flaming hair. The dark circles under her eyes were more pronounced than he'd ever seen, and she seemed thinner than she had before.

"I'm not sick, Jethro. I just couldn't go in today. Can you please leave so I can go back to sleep?"

He studied her and finally nodded. He reached down to brush her hair back from her face and kissed her cheek.

"Can I call you later?"

"Sure."

Her voice was soft, and even to his own ears, it sounded empty. He leaned down, wrapping her in his arms and kissed her again, suddenly needing to hold her.

"I love you, Jen. Please don't forget that."

She nodded against his chest and when he stood, she turned away from him again, burying herself in the blankets. As he walked down the stairs, he pulled out his phone. He'd never seen Jenny like this and if he was being honest with himself, it scared him. Just as he was about to dial the familiar number, he frowned. He'd nearly called Ducky before he remembered with a jolt. Ducky couldn't help him now. Shaking his head, he dialed another number and sighed.

"Autopsy."

"Palmer, got a medical question."

"Oh, Agent Gibbs! Of course, how can I help?"

"Got a woman, nothing physically wrong, but couldn't get out of bed. Very pale, thin, dark circles under the eyes. Isolating herself from people, history of self-harm."

"Hm...sounds like a pretty straightforward case of depression. Pretty severe."

"What's the treatment for that?"

"Talking helps, basically just showing support. Offering to help with things that may seem overwhelming, medication in some cases. Unfortunately, there's no cure for depression, but it can be managed."

"Thanks."

He hung up, and dialed again.

"DiNozzo."

"Taking the rest of the day off. Got something I need to take care of."

"Sure thing, boss."

He knew there would be an abundance of questions when he returned to work, but Gibbs didn't care. Jenny was more important than any line of questioning by his team. He made his way to the kitchen and frowned. The room was still in ruins, and he set about cleaning it up, careful not to cut himself on any of the broken glass.

After rummaging through her cabinets, he found a pot to boil water and a box of teabags. As it heated, Gibbs searched for a cup and with a sigh, he knew he would have to settle for the cup Ducky had given her. He wasn't sure how she would react to it, but it was his only option. She'd really done a number on the room, and he couldn't help but wonder what had been going on in her mind as she'd destroyed it.

Tea freshly brewed, he climbed the stairs and pushed open her bedroom door again. She still hadn't moved from her place in the bed, and when he sat down next to her, she didn't even flinch.

"Brought you some tea. Two sugars."

"Thanks," she mumbled.

He set it on the table next to the bed and brushed his hand over her hair.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Her head shook and he kept moving his hair through her long hair.

"How can I help, Jen? I hate seeing you like this."

"You don't have to look, then."

There was a slight hint of anger in her voice, and it gave him hope. It was the most emotion she'd shown all day, and he smiled.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know. Could you...would you just hold me?"

"Of course."

He shifted so that he could lay next to her, and she immediately curled up into his arms. Her head was tucked under his chin and he pressed a kiss to the top of her hair, inhaling the remnants of her perfume. Jenny held her breath as she laid on his chest, afraid that if she moved too much, she would shatter the moment. Her eyes closed as she took in the most shallow breath she could manage and when she exhaled, it took all her strength not to cry.

"Are you sure that I can't help?"

"It's not your fault, Jethro."

"I know, but I've never seen you like this. It worries me."

She raised up to look at him and he brushed away the tears that filled her eyes.

"Please don't worry about me. This is something that I have to deal with on my own."

Laying her head back down, Jenny moved her body impossibly closer to his. She fell asleep within minutes, leaving Gibbs wondering what he could do to help bring the woman he loved out of the darkness that had consumed her.

* * *

As the door to her office opened, Jenny sighed, removing her glasses and fixing him with a tired glare.

"Gibbs...what did that door ever do to you?"

"Blocked my view of you. Need your signature on these."

She smiled at his answer and gestured to the desk. When she stepped out from behind it, he caught the scent of her perfume, stronger than he remembered it.

"Bourbon?"

He frowned at her offer and declined. Suddenly, he understood why her perfume had become stronger over the last few months. She'd been trying to disguise her heavy drinking.

"Where did you get that?"

"I replaced it when you threw away what I previously had. Don't worry, it isn't open."

She showed him the bottle, and he was more than a little relieved to see that she was telling the truth. The seal was still intact, and he could detect no hint of alcohol on her breath. Hoping that meant she hadn't taken a drink since he'd thrown her reserves away, he smiled.

"How long?"

"Six days. It's killing me, you know."

Her hands were steady as she reached up to run her fingers through his hair and he couldn't help but feel proud of her.

"You're doing fine, Jen."

Emerald met sapphire and she sighed.

"I feel like I've been hit by a truck."

"That'll pass."

He brushed his lips against hers and she gripped his jacket, pulling him closer. Running his tongue over her bottom lip, he smirked when she moaned into his mouth and deepened the kiss. Just as his fingers were about to pull her hair free from her ponytail, a soft beep interrupted his movements.

"Excuse me, Director, the Director of Homeland Security is waiting on video conference for you in MTAC."

Jenny disentangled herself from his arms and pressed her intercom.

"Thank you, Cynthia. I'll be right there."

"Yes, ma'am."

She turned to Gibbs, a light smirk on her face reminiscent of his own.

"How do I look?"

"You'll do."

Briefly, her mind flashed back to the first time he'd said those words to her in the elevator after their first sexual harassment class as a couple. Her eyes glittered with the memory and as she made her way past him, she flashed him a smile that made his heart jump.

"We'll talk later?"

"Count on it."

* * *

Some days, Jennifer Shepard really hated her job. This was one of those days. After arguing with the Director of Homeland Security for two hours, she was finally headed home. Her eyes were tired, her stomach was painfully letting her know that it was empty, and her head was pounding. She needed a drink in the worst way and she walked into her office, grabbing her keys furiously.

The bottle behind her desk was calling her name and she shook her head, hoping to drive away the thoughts.

"Come on, Shepard. Don't be an idiot."

Her eyes lingered on the bottle and as as her thin fingers closed around it, she threw it across the room. Before she could let herself think too much about her actions, she pulled on her jacket and ran for the door.

* * *

Gibbs took a long drink of his bourbon and picked up his sander, hoping it would relieve the thoughts raging in his mind. A few moments of silence were awarded him before his phone rang and he sighed.

"Yeah. Gibbs."

"Are you busy?"

"Not really. What's up?"

He could almost hear the shrug from the other end of the line.

"Just wanted to talk."

There was a long silence and he took another drink. He pictured her in her study, absentmindedly wrapping her hair around her finger as she spoke, and he smiled.

"Jen? What did you want to talk about?"

"Life. I mean, what happens when we die? How do we ever deal with the pain that life gives us without going insane? What is our purpose in the universe?"

He frowned as she spoke. Something was wrong about this conversation, and he was almost positive he knew what it was.

"Jen, are you drunk?"

She laughed and there was the slight tremor to her voice that answered his question. The average listener wouldn't have heard it, but he was so in tune with her vocal cadences that he noticed it instantly.

"Why, Jen? You were doing so well."

"I'm sorry, Jethro. I needed it so badly tonight. Please...don't be mad at me."

He sighed, running his hand over his face.

"I'm not mad. Can I come by?"

"Sure."

He grabbed his keys, thankful that he hadn't been drinking any more and hung up the phone. He only hoped that he could figure out why she'd felt the need to throw away her newfound sobriety with both hands.

* * *

The door swung open, revealing a very inebriated Jenny, and he frowned. How she had managed to walk in those ridiculous high heels even while drunk amazed him. She smiled at him as he closed her door and when she stumbled slightly, his hand instinctively reached out to steady her.

"Jen...take off your goddamned heels before you break your neck."

Something in her eyes flashed and he frowned.

"What?"

"You said that to me once before. Do you remember?"

He thought back and shook his head slowly.

"Back when I was your probie. I got drunk at a bar in DC because of you. You came to give me a ride home and when I slipped on the floor you told me to take off my heels."

The memory came to him now and he smiled at her, remembering just how badly he'd wanted her that night.

"Wait. What do you mean you got drunk because of me that night?"

She shrugged.

"That was the night after I had that first really inappropriate dream about you, so I went to a bar to forget about you. Not that it worked, obviously, but I tried."

Now he was intrigued. She'd never mentioned that detail to him. She was slowly making her way into the living room and he watched her carefully. Her heels were still on her feet and he sighed.

"What dream?"

"Nice try, Jethro."

She sat down on the couch and closed her eyes. When he was close enough, he knelt down and took her left ankle gently in his hand. She frowned and glanced down at him.

"What are you doing?"

He deftly slid the shoe from her foot and set it behind him.

"Heels," he said simply.

The other soon followed and he stared up at her. His hand still hadn't released her ankle and she smiled slightly at the contact.

"Why, Jen?"

"Needed to forget. Bad day."

He smirked, a sudden idea hitting him.

"There are better ways to forget."

She arched an eyebrow at him.

"Such as?"

He moved from his position on the floor and crashed his lips against hers. Her hands instantly found his hair and as he pulled her to her feet, she laughed.

"Is it working?"

She nodded and kissed him again, pulling him closer. He backed her into the wall and as he pinned her arms above her head, she gasped into his shoulder. Gibbs pulled her hair free of the ponytail and as it tumbled around her shoulders, he swept it to one side so he could gain access to her throat. Her head fell back against the wall and she moaned as his hands moved to her jeans.

"J-Jethro, the bedroom-"

"Too far," he whispered as he kissed her throat.

He slid his hand into her tight jeans, loving the gasp that fell from her lips as he touched her, and he tugged the fabric down. It pooled at her feet and she kicked it aside, capturing his lips with her own. Carefully, he guided her down to the floor, smirking as her skin touched the cold wood. Gibbs grabbed a pillow from her couch and placed it under her head and pulled her shirt from her body.

"Really, Jethro? The floor?"

He trailed his lips down her body and when he kissed the inside of her thighs, she moaned.

"Are you complaining, Jen?"

She shook her head and he quickly pulled her underwear down her legs. The moan that reached his ears only urged him forward and when he glided his tongue over her, she jerked beneath him. Her fingers wound into his hair and she whispered his name, past demanding anything.

"Jethro, I—oh, God...fuck.."

He quickened his pace, knowing exactly how to make her powerless under him, relishing the way her nails raked across his scalp. She swore in French, and as her walls tightened around him, her breathing became more shallow. She screamed as her climax hit and he continued his assault on her senses as he moved his tongue in and out. A second orgasm crashed over her and her body arched upward, her grip in his hair tight.

Bringing her down slowly, he smiled as she released her hold on his hair. He raised up to kiss his way up her body and when he kissed her lips, he could feel the way her thin frame shook under his.

"Better?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice, and he smiled down at her. Her eyes were bright with liquor and he frowned. There was still a discussion they needed to have and he couldn't see a better opportunity.

"Jen? Why didn't you call me all weekend? Why were you avoiding me?"

She raised up from her position on the floor, reaching for the jeans she had kicked aside. Pulling them on, she dodged his gaze and he reached out to wrap her in his arms.

"I was embarrassed."

"Why?"

"I..." she trailed off, unsure of how to continue, "The other night, I was...I was detoxing pretty bad. I called you, but apparently you didn't answer. But...I imagined you did. I...Jethro, I fucking hallucinated the entire night. It felt so real."

Her tears were steady now, and he pulled her closer, kissing her cheek.

"I would have. If I'd heard the phone ring, I would have dropped everything to be here with you. You don't have to do this alone."

"Why?"

"I told you, Jen. I love you. I want you to be happy. I want you to be safe. I would do anything for you."

She turned in his arms, searching his eyes. Within the cobalt blue depths, there was an honesty that she hadn't seen in so many years. She kissed him gently and when she pulled back, the smile that she gave him was brighter than anything he'd seen in months.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

He stood and held out his hand, pulling her to her feet. He led her to the stairs and when they laid down on her bed, she immediately nestled against his chest. Her even breathing filled the room fifteen minutes later and when he joined her in sleep, a slight smile graced his face.

* * *

The low whimpering woke him from his sleep and Gibbs glanced down, frowning. Jenny's eyes were closed, but her body shook in his arms as she slept. He lightly shook her, smiling sadly when she slowly looked up at him, and he noticed the slight beading of sweat on her skin.

"Hey," he said quietly, "you okay?"

Fear was evident in her eyes and she reached for his hand.

"W-what's happening to me?"

"You're detoxing again, Jen. Probably won't be too bad because you didn't drink as much, but it will take some time."

She held onto his hand so tightly that it was painful, but he knew better than to mention it. Her body shook as another spasm overtook her and she whimpered. He kissed her slightly damp hair and smiled.

"I've got you, Jen. It's okay. Just try to sleep."

As he held her shaking body, he couldn't help but wonder what Ducky would say to them if he could see them now. Jenny's questions from earlier returned to him and he frowned. What did happen when they died? How were they supposed to deal with the pain of life? Very good questions, but unfortunately not any that he had an answer to. It was unanswerable, but as Ducky had once told him, all the best questions usually were.

* * *

**A/N: Reviews make me smile.**


	4. Hallucinations

**A/N: I hope you all enjoy this next installment. Deals with mature themes. I tried really hard to portray Jenny's grief as accurately as I could, drawing from both my own experiences of loss as well as that of my closest friends. **

* * *

Water cascaded down her body and Jenny sighed, running her fingers through her hair. Her night with Jethro had been interesting, to say the least, but the overwhelming need for a shower had consumed her as soon as she'd woken. Here, under the cover of water, she could cry without fear of being noticed. Here, her tears blended easily with the steady stream from the faucet.

She sat down in the tub, pulling her knees to her chest and sobbed. Years of pain that she hadn't been able to express poured from her eyes, leaving her exhausted. She cried for her father, for the abuse she'd suffered at the hands of an ex-boyfriend, for Jethro, for Kate though she'd never known her, for Shannon and Kelly, for Ducky, for herself. Finally, she'd decided that enough was enough and she stood, turning off the water.

As she dried her long red hair, she allowed herself a small smile as she remembered the events from the previous night. Though she hadn't really expected him to, Jethro had stayed with her the entire night and he'd still been in her bed when she'd woken. She hadn't imagined it. He was really there. When she stepped into her bedroom, she frowned when she noticed that his side of the bed was empty. The note left on the pillow offered an explanation and she smiled as she read the familiar scrawl.

_Jen-_

_ Went to buy a few things. Be back soon. Love you._

_ -Jethro_

Wondering what he could have gone to buy, Jenny set about picking out her clothing for the day. She'd decided that she wanted to be comfortable above all else, so jeans were out. She rummaged through her dresser drawers, smiling to herself when she found her favourite pair of yoga pants and a long sleeved sweatshirt. It was large on her and that was perfect for what she wanted. Disappearing into her clothing sounded like a great idea.

The shutting of the door alerted her to Jethro's return and she made her way down the stairs. When she stepped into her kitchen, she frowned. The last time she'd been in this room, it had been destroyed. Now it looked just as it had weeks ago with a few minor improvements. Jethro turned at the sound of her footsteps and gave her a smile.

"Morning."

"Morning," she replied distantly, "Did you do this?"

He shrugged and held out a coffee cup to her. It was shiny, new, and more importantly, it held no bad memories for her. She took it and inhaled the rich aroma of coffee, sipping it cautiously. She smiled, touched that he had remembered exactly how she took her coffee after all these years, and reached up to touch his face gently.

"Thank you. You didn't have to do this, though."

"I know."

He took a drink from his own cup and when he leaned down to kiss her, she could still feel the warmth on his lips.

"How do you feel?"

She looked down at her coffee, unsure of how to answer. Her second round of withdrawals had been brutal, but she felt surprisingly good.

"Better," she murmured.

He pulled her to him in a hug and kissed the top of her head lightly. He'd been thinking all morning about what was different about her house and as he stood in the bright kitchen, it suddenly hit him.

"Hey, Jen...do you still play the piano?"

She frowned, looking up at him.

"What brought that up?"

"Just realised that I didn't see a piano in the living room where it used to be. What happened to it?"

"I put it up in the attic."

"Why? You used to love playing. You were pretty damn good, too."

She shrugged and pulled away from his embrace, looking at him sadly.

"I just didn't feel like playing anymore."

Jenny walked out of the room, leaving her cup on the counter and Jethro more confused than ever. Had he said something wrong?

* * *

"DiNozzo, where's Gibbs?"

"No idea, ma'am. I haven't seen him since he left for coffee."

Jenny sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She was determined to make it down to autopsy today, and she hadn't really wanted to do it alone. Still, he wasn't here and she couldn't put her life on pause because she needed someone to hold her hand. She made her way to the elevator and pressed the button she wanted. The ride down was filled with shaking hands and desperate attempts to calm her breathing and by the time she reached her destination, she was wondering why she had decided to do this.

Summoning the last reserves of her courage, she stepped through the sliding doors of autopsy and when he saw her, Jimmy Palmer smiled warmly.

"Director Shepard! This is a surprise. How can I help you?"

She shook her head slowly and offered him a weak smile.

"I didn't need anything, Palmer. I just—I had to come down here."

He nodded, though he wasn't quite sure what she was talking about. Her skin had paled considerably and he noticed how badly her hands were shaking.

"Are you alright, ma'am?"

She nodded, letting out a slow trembling breath.

"This is the first time I've been down here since..."

Understanding filled his eyes and he reached out to touch her shoulder. She raised her eyes to his and his smile brought her a small measure of comfort.

"I understand. It was hard for me too, at first. It gets a bit easier. Sometimes, it's like he's still here. I can almost imagine him saying 'Palmer, get your head in the game. This reminds me of the time...' and then it makes it a little better."

She smiled and turned away. She'd had just about all she could handle of the room and after she gave her thanks to Palmer, Jenny nearly ran to the elevator. Her father's death had affected her the same way, it had taken her years before she could enter the study in her house, and she wasn't sure she was prepared to go through the same torture again.

* * *

Stumbling through the front door hours later, Jenny knew she had royally fucked up. She'd not even been able to manage two days sober before she'd downed all the liquor in her office at once, and though she knew it was wrong, she hadn't stopped there. Flipping on the light in her living room, Jenny gasped as she surveyed it. Standing against the far wall, beautifully polished and waiting to be used, was her piano. Her eyes narrowed as she walked over and lightly ran her fingers over the smooth keys. She hadn't played in years, but she knew that she hadn't forgotten how.

Pulling out her phone, she quickly dialed and when she heard his low greeting, she smiled.

"Yeah, Gibbs."

"Thank you."

"For?"

"You know what for. It's beautiful."

"No need to thank me. I'd love to hear you play sometime."

"I don't play for people. Just myself. You know that."

He laughed and she smiled again as she touched the pristine ivory.

"I don't deserve this."

"Of course you do."

A sob was threatening to escape and she put her hand over her mouth to stop it.

"I fucked up, Jethro. I'm so stupid. Please don't hate me."

He sighed and she sank down on the piano bench.

"What happened?"

"I—I went down to autopsy today. It was—God, Jethro...it was horrible."

He could tell she was crying and more than anything, he wished he could hold her. She sniffed and when she spoke next, her voice was a bit steadier.

"Palmer helped a little. I owe him one."

"Jen...will you promise me something?"

"Depends. I don't make promises that I can't keep."

He smiled.

"Promise me that the next time you feel like you want to drink yourself into oblivion, please call me first. That's all I ask."

She was silent for a moment and he wasn't sure that she was going to answer.

"I promise. I'm so sorry, Jethro. I feel so fucking pathetic."

He sighed, wondering what he could possibly do to help her.

"You're not pathetic."

The laugh that came down the line was bitter and it hurt him more than he would have thought.

"I'm so fucking weak that I can't even go into a room without having a goddamned breakdown. What else would you call it, Jethro? Seems pretty damn pathetic to me."

She'd never sworn so much in a single breath and he frowned.

"Jen...calm down. I know you're upset, but you need to breathe."

"I don't need to calm down. I need to have another drink."

He shook his head, then remembered that she couldn't see him.

"Jen, no. Please don't. Please. Let me come over. I want to help."

"You can't help me, Jethro. I'm not even sure there's a 'me' to help anymore."

The resounding click in his ear told him that she'd hung up and he sighed. Why did she have to be so damn stubborn? Why couldn't she just admit that she needed help? He ran his hand through his hair and grabbed his keys. There was no way in hell that he was going to leave her alone tonight.

* * *

The loud knocking at her door caused Jenny to jerk her head up from her arms and she swore as her vision swam. She stood on unsteady legs and when she finally reached the door, she leaned against the frame, unsure if she even had the strength to open it. Slowly, she pulled it open and when she saw him standing there, she tried to close it again. He quickly placed his foot in the opening and pushed it back with his hand.

"Let me in."

"Go away."

He shook his head slowly and pushed his way through the door.

"Let me in, Jen. You're not staying alone tonight."

She stepped back, but it was more of a loss of balance than an admittance of entry. He caught her and she jerked out of his grasp, her eyes wide.

"Don't touch me."

It wasn't until she stepped farther away that he noticed the glint of silver in her hand. Knowing what would happen if he didn't stop her, he reached for her hand and she pulled back again.

"I said don't touch me!"

He shook his head and took a step closer to her. She backed away, the look in her eyes screaming of fear.

"Jen, give me the knife. I don't want to hurt you. Just give me the knife."

"Stay away from me."

Watching her, he waited until she had gotten far enough away to give herself a sense of security and then he threw his hand out, knocking the blade from her grasp. She lunged at him, her hands hitting his chest as she screamed and he grabbed her wrists.

"Jen, calm down."

"How could you?! You fucking bastard!"

She fought his hold on her and he wrapped his arms around her body, holding her as still as possible.

"Jen, it's okay."

Most of her strength had left her now, her hands only barely hitting his chest as she sobbed and when she collapsed in his arms, his grip was the only thing keeping her upright.

"It's okay. Shh...shh. Don't cry. You're safe here. I've got you. Shh..."

She was still sobbing and he slowly lowered them to the floor, cradling her in his arms. Her tears dampened his shirt and as he held her, he placed a light kiss to the side of her head.

"It's okay, Jen."

"J-Jethro..."

"Shh...I know."

She gripped his shirt so tightly that her knuckles were white and her shaking had only intensified.

"I'm so sorry, Jethro. I f-fucked up. I know I s-shouldn't have, but I hate this so much. I hate _myself_ so much."

"Why, Jen? Why do you hate yourself? You're grieving the loss of a very close friend, a surrogate father. That doesn't mean you should hate yourself."

Her head shook, fiery tresses sticking to her damp cheek.

"N-no. It...it isn't that. I h-hate myself for what I d-did to y-you. I nearly got you k-killed before we left for Europe, I left you _in _Europe, I was so c-cold when I came back...I m-made you sit with me when I c-cut open my own skin. Nothing I do will ever make this r-right and I'm s-so sorry, Jethro."

He tightened his hold on her and when he lifted her to her feet, she swayed. He swept her into his arms and headed for the stairs. He heard Jenny's muffled question against his chest, but chose not to answer. As he placed her on the bed, she stared up at him with confused eyes.

"What are you doing?"

He climbed into the bed next to her and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her against him.

"I'm keeping you safe."

His lips on hers silenced any questions she had and when her even breathing filled the room, he smiled and pulled her impossibly closer. Nothing was going to keep him from her side tonight. Not even Jenny herself.

* * *

When he opened his eyes, he was distinctly aware of the empty space next to him in the bed. On high alert now, he swung his legs over the edge and made his way down the stairs. Just as he reached the last few steps, a soft sound made him stop. Music, low and sad, floated to his ears and he smiled as he quietly crept into the living room. Jenny was sitting behind the piano, her fingers moving effortlessly over the keys, her eyes closed as she played. He'd known that she could play, but he hadn't known she could play so beautifully. The last time he'd listened to the piano being played, it had been Kelly, and he could only imagine how she would have sounded now.

The floorboard groaned under his weight and Jenny froze. She whipped around, her hair hitting her in the face and when he saw her slightly frightened expression, he smiled.

"I didn't mean to scare you. I woke up and you were gone."

She relaxed slightly and gestured for him to sit. He slid into the space next to her and when she smiled at him, he kissed her cheek.

"You play beautifully."

"Thank you," she said softly.

Her fingers rested on the keys and as she moved them, a melancholy melody filling the room, he swore she had never looked more breathtaking. Her thin fingers glided across the smooth surface and when she suddenly stopped playing, he glanced over at her.

"Jen?"

"I'm sorry. For last night. I was out of line. I was drunk and emotional and it won't happen again."

Gibbs reached out to take her hand and brought it to his lips.

"I love you. Nothing is going to change that. I'm here to help you. Always."

Jenny smiled at him and rested her head on his shoulder. He could smell the remnants of her shampoo and he smiled. She smelled like home to him. The one certain thing in his life. The one person he could always rely on, that he could trust with his very life no matter what happened. He could feel her eyes on him and when he looked to his left, she smiled.

"What are you thinking about, Jethro?"

"You," he said simply.

"What about me?"

"You're the one constant in my life. You're the one person I can truly trust."

She smiled and kissed his cheek. When she stood, she held out her hand and he took it, letting her lead him toward the stairs.

"Come on, Jethro. Let's go back to bed."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

DiNozzo winced as a slap was delivered to the back of his head. True, he hadn't exactly been focused on his job, but he hadn't noticed his boss rounding the corner. As Gibbs made his way up the stairs, Tony turned to McGee.

"Does the boss seem...happier to you lately?"

"Dunno. I've never really seen Gibbs..happy."

"That's my point, McGeek. He actually smiled earlier. It was weird."

McGee frowned and as Tony returned to his computer game. Something was definitely different about their boss, but nothing he could think of would explain it.

* * *

"When were you gonna tell me that you handed over our case to the FBI?"

Jenny sighed, removing her glasses and gave him a tired stare.

"I didn't have a choice."

"You have to learn how to say no."

"I can't tell SecNav no, Special Agent Gibbs. He's my superior."

"Damn it, Jen! We earned the right to this case!"

"I had no choice, Jethro."

Something in her voice made him stop pacing and look at her. He hadn't see her in a few days, and she looked absolutely exhausted. Her normally bright eyes were dull and the dark circles were very pronounced under them.

"Jen..."

"Look, I'm extremely busy, so unless you can come up with a better reason to come storming in here, you should probably leave."

She placed her head in her hand and closed her eyes, rubbing her temple. He walked around to the other side of her desk and placed his hands on her shoulders, massaging the tight knots he felt in her tense muscles.

"How long has it been since you slept, Jen?"

She sighed, leaning into his touch.

"When did you leave my house?"

"Three days ago."

She nodded and he frowned. How did she expect to function on literally no sleep? He pulled her hair free from its tight ponytail and threaded his fingers into her hair, massaging her scalp. She moaned softly at his touch and he smirked.

"Jen, you need to sleep. You can't keep running yourself into the ground. It isn't healthy."

"I can't, Jethro. I have a job to do."

He continued to massage her head and she let another moan fall from her lips. The sun was beginning to go down and as it filtered through the window, it set Jenny's hair ablaze. Gibbs took a moment to stare at its fiery beauty and when he leaned down to place a light kiss at the base of her throat, his breath was warm.

"It's late, Jen. Go home. Get some sleep."

Her eyes opened and she turned to face him, the look she gave full of questions.

"Are you through causing a scene in my office?"

"If it gets you home quicker, yeah."

She smiled and stood, raising up on her toes to place a light kiss to his lips.

"Will you come by later?"

"Definitely."

Grabbing her jacket, Jenny gave him a smile and he placed his hand at the small of her back, guiding her to the door. Her hair was still curling around her shoulders and when they passed the squad room, Gibbs glared as Tony's eyes followed her.

"It's late. Go home."

"Right, boss. Good night. Good night, Director Shepard."

"Good night, Special Agent DiNozzo," Jenny replied as she stepped into the elevator.

* * *

Jenny placed the needle on the record, smiling as the soft music filled her living room. She swayed to the sound and when Gibbs made his way into the room, a smile graced his face as he watched her. It wasn't often that she danced, seeing as she wasn't very good at it, and when she noticed him in the room, she held out her hand.

"Will you dance with me?"

He took her hand in his and pulled her against him. Her head rested on his chest and as they moved together, he focused on the feeling of her in his arms. She could feel his heartbeat in her ear and she smiled as she breathed in his familiar scent.

"Jen?"

"Hm?"

"How long has it been since your last drink?"

"Three days, 10 hours, 32 minutes."

He laughed at her attention to detail and spun her from him. She twirled back into his arms, laughing, and when she looked up at him, he kissed her.

"I'm so proud of you."

As the song ended, he led her to the couch, pulling her close. Her breathing was slowing down as she laid in his embrace and when he shook her gently, she blinked up at him.

"I should go, Jen. You need to sleep."

"No. Don't go."

He frowned, kissing her hair gently.

"Why not?"

"I'm not ready for you to not be here. I can't be alone. I need you."

He kissed her again and she smiled as she nestled closer to him.

"I'll stay. On one condition. You have to sleep."

She nodded and without warning he stood, lifting her easily in his arms. She laughed as he carried her to the steps and when they tumbled into her bed moments later, she pulled him to her. Threading her fingers through his hair, she kissed him and when he pulled back, she frowned.

"Sleep, Jen. That was our deal."

She smirked and laid down next to him, tracing circles with her nail across his chest. Her movements slowed as sleep claimed her and when they stopped altogether, he smiled at the sleeping woman in his arms.

* * *

_Her fingers were sprawled against the ivory, resting easily. She didn't yet know what she was to play, but she attempted to coax her thoughts to come out of the dark recesses of her mind. As she pressed down on the keys, she frowned at the lack of sound. Surely she knew how to play? Of course she did. Her head shook, a whirlwind of thoughts spiraling around in her mind, none of them inspiring or pleasant. Air flew from her lungs and she tried desperately to drawn in oxygen, but the burning persisted. _

_ Her hands slammed down on the keys, yet still nothing came. Did pain no longer have a sound? Could she no longer give it a soundtrack? Her screams were silent and as her heart began to pound in her chest, blinding light filled the room and still she attempted to play. Grasping a pen, she tried to write and as lines of torment flew with the ink, she could feel the skin on her wrists opening. Blood poured, spilling over the ivory keys and as her body fell into oblivion, she screamed again in her muted world. _

"Jen! Wake up! Jen!"

Jenny's eyes flew open and she jerked awake, her breath coming in short gasps. Gentle hands held her shoulders and when her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, they landed on Jethro, his own eyes watching her worriedly.

"You okay?"

Ragged breaths tore their way through her lungs and she nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She folded herself into Jethro's body and as he stroked her hair, she finally felt her heart slow.

"What happened?"

"Just a bad dream. It's okay. I'm fine."

His eyes found hers in the darkness and she could tell that he didn't believe her. She ran her hand through her hair and sighed.

"Jethro, I'm fine. Really."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she laid her head on his chest, finding comfort in the beating of his heart.

* * *

When he opened his eyes next, it was to a loud crash. Bolting upright, he reached for Jenny, only to find her place beside him empty. He carefully made his way downstairs, following the sounds he heard and as he entered the kitchen, his eyes widened. Jenny was frantically throwing everything from her cabinets, her hands flying everywhere, viridian eyes wild.

"Jen?"

"Where is it?"

"What?"

She moved around the room as if she hadn't heard him. He had no idea what she was looking for, and it didn't appear like she was going to tell him.

"It has to be here. I know it's here."

"What are you looking for, Jen?"

"I can't find it."

Dishes were tossed around and a glass narrowly missed his head. He quickly approached her, grabbing her by the shoulders and forcing her to look at him.

"Jen! What are you looking for?"

"The cup. The coffee cup. The one with my name on it. The one...the one Ducky gave me. Where is it?"

Her words were fast, bordering on hysterical, and he held her firmly in place. There were tears in her eyes as they darted around the room and he tried again to calm her.

"We'll find it."

"I can't have lost it. I know it has to be here somewhere."

Jenny tried to break free from his grip, but he held on.

"I promise. We'll find it. Jen, look at me."

Again, she tried to pull away and he shook her harder than he'd meant to, but he needed her to come back to him.

"Jenny! Calm down. Stop. It has to be here."

"Jethro, where is it? It's all I have left of him, I can't lose it."

Before he knew what had happened, his hand connected with the back of her head and she blinked, shocked.

"Calm down, Shepard. We'll find it."

Her eyes locked with his and finally she nodded. When he thought she had calmed enough, he released his hold on her and he sighed.

"Go sit on the couch, Jen. I'll look for it."

Silently, she walked away from him and as he surveyed the kitchen, he tried to remember the last place he'd seen her cup. She hadn't touched the tea he'd made her five days ago, but he hadn't seen it in the bedroom. Minutes of searching turned up nothing and just as he was about to stop his efforts, he caught a slight hint of forest green in the very back of her top cabinet. Smiling, he reached up and pulled it down, the elaborate letters of her name shining in the light.

Holding it behind his back, he walked into the living room to find Jenny sitting with her head in her hands.

"Jen?"

She glanced up at him and he held out the cup wordlessly. Jenny threw herself into his arms, holding onto his shirt with one hand, the coffee mug with the other. Tears fell from her eyes and he held her and when she stepped back, she gave him a weak smile.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He kissed her gently, smiling down at her as she opened her eyes.

"I'm sorry I was so stupid."

Another kiss was her answer and when his hand slapped the back of her head again, he mouth fell open in shock.

"You ever call yourself stupid again, Shepard, and we're going to have a problem."

A silent nod was his only answer.

* * *

Jenny sighed as she signed her name at the bottom of the report on her desk and more than anything wished for a drink. Her unopened bottle of bourbon was locked in the bottom drawer of her desk and the thought was enough to drive her insane. She'd signed her name so many times that evening that it was beginning to lose any sort of meaning. It had ceased to even look like a proper word any longer and she rubbed her eyes tiredly. Pulling her keys from her pocket, she turned over the one that would grant her the access to the liquor and she frowned. Surely just one drink wouldn't hurt.

"Jennifer, don't you dare unlock that drawer."

The voice startled her and she jumped. She glanced up and what she saw made her blink harder than she thought possible.

"D-Ducky?"

"You know as well as I do that you won't stop at one drink, so don't even think of it. Put those keys back in your pocket and go home. Call Jethro if you need, but don't open that bottle."

Jenny shook her head, but still the doctor remained in front of her. He looked just as he had the last time she'd seen him alive and she frowned.

"Am I going crazy?"

"Crazy is a relative term, my dear. What may seem crazy to you may very well be perfectly normal to another."

The redhead closed her eyes and ran her hand through her hair. When she pulled it back, she wasn't surprised to see that it was shaking.

"Ducky?"

"Yes?"

"I miss you."

"And I miss you, Jennifer."

* * *

Gibbs didn't even glance up as his front door opened. Years of leaving it unlocked had caused him to no longer be surprised when it swung open at all hours of the night. He smiled as he heard the familiar click of her heels on the steps and when she finally appeared in front of him, he nodded to her.

"Jen."

"Jethro."

"You okay?"

She nodded and he gestured to the seat near the worktable. Sliding onto it, she flashed him a rare smile and watched him as he worked.

"Jethro?"

"Hmm?"

"How _are_ you going to get this boat out of your basement?"

He laughed and turned to face her, closing the distance between them, His lips brushed hers and her hands found his hips, guiding him to her. He could feel her smile into his kiss and when he looked into her eyes, there was something in their depths that was bothering him.

"Rough day?"

She shrugged, her hair falling over her shoulder.

"Sort of. I signed my name so much that I almost forgot how to spell it."

"Maybe I can help. I'm not the best at paperwork-"

"_That_ is an understatement."

He kissed her cheek and she smiled.

"Let me help. J-"

He kissed her again, alternating places with each letter of her name.

"E. N.N.I.F.E.R."

Every kiss was feather-light and she laughed as he finished. She entwined her fingers with his and when he properly kissed her, she deepened it quickly. Her forcefulness caught him off-guard and he broke away, looking at her seriously.

"Slow down, Jen."

There was a desperate urgency in the way she touched him, something he didn't particularly like. Knowing Jenny, that meant she was trying to forget, trying to distract herself.

"Is something wrong, Jenny?"

She shook her head, smiling in a way that didn't reach her eyes.

"No. Can't I just kiss the man I love?"

"Not that way. When you kiss me like that, you're trying to put something behind you."

She frowned.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

She took a step back and he knew she was angry. Her heels clicked as she backed toward the steps and when she reached them, he called her name softly.

"You don't have to leave."

"I think I do, Jethro. I'm sorry. I'll call you."

"Jen, wait."

She turned, her eyes never leaving his face.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Jethro. More than you know."

* * *

As she paced around her study, Jenny tried to control the shaking of her hands. How could she have been so stupid? She should have known Jethro would see through her plan. Nothing made her forget a bad day quite like he did, but deep down she knew it was wrong to use him.

"You're only using him if you don't love him, Jennifer."

She whipped around, her hair momentarily blocking her view, but when she saw the doctor, she sighed.

"Ducky? What's going on? What's wrong with me?"

"I'm merely trying to help you."

She shook her head, threading her hands into her hair. She pulled it roughly, hoping the pain would distract her.

"You're not real."

"Aren't I?"

Jenny whimpered, pulling her hair harder. Searching for her phone, she dialed Jethro's number as quickly as her shaking hands would allow.

"Yeah, Gibbs."

"Jethro? C-could you please come over?"

"Are you safe?"

"Yes, but...I—I need you here. Please."

"On my way."

Jenny sighed, letting her phone drop from her hand and she resumed pacing.

"Whatever you do, Jennifer, don't pick up the bottle."

"Leave me alone."

"You need help, my dear."

"Stop it."

"I'm only saying-"

"_Shut up_!"

She sank to the floor, curling into herself and tried to make her body as small as she possibly could.

"When are you going to admit that you're spiraling, Jennifer? You're on a downward streak that I'm not sure you can stop."

"Shut up. You're not real."

"Maybe there's only one way to stop it. Maybe you should do the honourable thing and end everyone's pain, including your own."

Jenny covered her ears, trying anything to block out Ducky's voice.

"You have all the tools you need. You could end all of this with a few quick cuts of the knife. Or the gun in your desk would do nicely."

"Please.." Jenny whispered, crawling to her desk, "Please stop."

"You have to make it stop on your own, Jennifer. Go ahead. It will be quick. Most likely even painless."

Her shaking hands found the drawer, closed around the cool metal of the gun and pulled it out, twisting it between her fingers. She stared down at it thoughtfully, as if transfixed, and wondered at it's design. Something so small could destroy so much. Her father's life, for example. It could also bring about the end of her own pain.

* * *

The sound of her door opening didn't register to her ears, and she didn't notice Jethro's shadow in the entrance to her study. Her every thought, every sense, was trained on the weapon in her hand and when he saw the glint of metal, he fought his every instinct to run to her. If he startled her now, she could fire the weapon accidentally and he would never forgive himself.

"Jen.." his voice was soft, cautious, "Jen, put the gun down. Please."

She didn't move and he took a few slow steps toward her.

"Hey...can you hear me? Come on...put the gun down."

He had almost reached her, but he didn't want to touch her yet. He needed her to acknowledge him first.

"Jenny...look at me."

He knelt down, trying to catch her eyes. She didn't seem to have heard him and he reached out his hand slowly. It closed around her wrist and finally her eyes shifted. Finding his own, he was struck by how haunted her eyes were.

"Jen. Give me the gun. Please."

She nodded once, and he pulled the weapon from her grasp, marvelling at how cold her skin was. He dislodged the clip from the gun and tossed them both aside. The sound seemed to break her trance and when she blinked at him, his Jenny was back.

"J-Jethro?"

He wrapped her in his arms and held her as tightly as he dared. He couldn't believe how close he'd come to losing her and he never wanted to let her go.

"What happened?"

"I—I came home and I was just trying to think. To clear my mind a bit. I was thinking about you and then Ducky told me that I-"

"Wait. What?"

"Ducky," she repeated, her words rushed, as if she knew he would interrupt, "Ducky told me that I needed to make the pain stop. Not just for me, but for everyone. I...I saw him, Jethro. He was here."

Her tears soaked his shirt and her shaking increased as she spoke. He kissed her hair, never releasing his hold on her and as she sobbed against his chest, he couldn't help but feel very afraid for the woman in his arms.

* * *

**A/N: I love reading all of your reviews, and a huge thank you to Bee-327 for being such a loyal reader! You don't know how much that means to me.**


	5. Piece By Piece

**A/N: Here's the next part. The ending is super Jibbs-y. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Jenny always made the bed in the morning. There were many things Leroy Jethro Gibbs knew about Jennifer Shepard that were not public knowledge, like the way she always brushed her teeth with warm water. The way she had to have some kind of white noise in her room otherwise she couldn't sleep at night. The way she loved to dance, though she wasn't very good at it. The way her closet and dressers were colour-coded. The way she only used certain dinnerware for certain foods. The way she liked cinnamon on her hot cocoa. The way she loved to bake in her kitchen on the weekends. The way she rambled when she was drinking. The way she loved horror movies and knew most of them by heart. The way she wore high heels because it made her feel taller and thus, more formidable. The way she always made the bed.

So when she stopped him as he reached for the blankets to help her make the bed, he couldn't stop the frown that creased his features. He called her name softly and when she glanced over at him, her empty eyes hit him like a brick.

"Aren't you going to make the bed?"

Her head shook and she turned away again.

"You _always_ make the bed in the morning."

"Just leave it," she answered quietly, "it doesn't matter."

"Jen-"

An empty space where she had been standing met his words and he frowned. This was unlike her, and if he were brutally honest, he was scared. By the time he had made it downstairs, she was sitting on the couch, heels in hand, staring blankly at the ground. She didn't move when he entered, and as he grabbed his jacket, he frowned down at her.

"Jen? What is it?"

She was silent, but even from where he stood, he could see her body shaking.

"Hey..." he knelt down in front of her, placing a hand over hers, "what's wrong? Talk to me."

Red hair swung into her face as she shook her head and opened her mouth to speak. She couldn't find the words and kept shaking her head slowly.

"Jen, it's okay."

He took the heels from her hands and pulled her to her feet. Wrapping his arms around her, he whispered quietly into her hair, trying to think of anything that would help her. Her breathing was becoming more ragged and he glanced down, pushing her far enough away that he could look into her eyes.

"Breathe, Jen. It's okay. Calm down."

"I-I can't do it. I thought I could, but...I can't do it."

He held her against his chest, stroking her hair and when her breathing had somewhat slowed, he knelt down slightly.

"It's okay. You're not going to work today. You're staying home."

Her eyes widened and her head shook frantically.

"I can't, Jethro! I have meetings and ops to oversee. I c-can't just stay home."

He placed a finger over her lips, cutting off her protest and kissed her cheek.

"They can manage without us for one day."

She frowned, bringing her eyes to his.

"Us?" she repeated.

"Well, yeah. I'm not leaving you alone like this. I'm staying here."

Gibbs pulled out his phone, leaving a message with both Cynthia and DiNozzo and when he snapped it shut, he turned to the redhead who had sank back down to the couch. He held out his hand and led her to the bedroom, and as she laid on top of the tangled sheets, he smiled. A soft blanket was placed over her and just as he was about to leave the room, her hand grabbed his wrist.

"Don't leave."

"I was going to make you some tea."

"I'm not in the mood for tea. Thanks, though."

He nodded and slid into the bed next to her. Pulling her close, he kissed her hair and smiled as she buried her head in his chest.

"I'm sorry, Jethro."

"For?"

"I'm not normal. You deserve someone better than me."

He shook his head and tightened his hold on her body.

"I don't want anyone else. Besides, I'm not exactly normal myself, Jen."

She laughed quietly and he smiled. When Jenny turned in his arms, her gaze landed on the far corner of the room and she nearly screamed. Ducky was standing next to her open door and he flashed her a knowing smile. Gibbs noticed that she had stiffened in his arms and glanced down at her.

"Jen? What's wrong?"

Jenny closed her eyes, willing the apparition to leave, and a soft whimper escaped her. Gibbs looked around the room, wondering what she could have seen and sighed.

"Jen...is it Ducky?"

She nodded and he ran his hand through her hair. The long red strands slipped through his fingers and he hoped that he was at least providing some measure of comfort.

"He's not here, Jen."

"I know. But it looks so real. Jethro, what's happening to me? I'm scared."

"You should be," came Ducky's voice from beside the bed.

Jenny turned away from the door and deeper into his embrace.

"Ducky once told me that seeing loved ones after their death was not uncommon. It sounds like you're just going through that particular part of the grief process."

He maneuvered out of the bed and leaned down to kiss her.

"I'll be right back. I love you."

A silent nod was his only answer.

* * *

Gibbs finally found a box of hot cocoa mix in Jenny's cabinet and pulled out the milk. He knew that she always made it with milk and as he heated the milk in a saucepan, he found her new coffee cup. Marshmallows adorned the top, sprinkled with cinnamon and he made his way back up the steps. He hoped that this would help her, and he smiled to himself.

Jenny's voice was low as it drifted through the slightly open bedroom door and he frowned.

"Shut up. You're not real."

He wasn't sure how to deal with this new development and more than anything, he wished for Ducky. Then again, if the doctor were here, this wouldn't be happening. Pushing open the door, he smiled as he handed her the cup, her eyes filling with tears.

"Cinnamon?"

He nodded.

"You always put cinnamon on your hot chocolate."

She smiled.

"I didn't know you noticed."

He kissed her cheek lightly.

"I notice everything about you, Jen."

She took a drink from the cup and smiled. Though she hated to miss work, she had to admit, it was nice to be able to simply sit with Jethro and enjoy his company free from scrutiny. Her eyes closed as she breathed in the sweet aroma and Gibbs smiled as he watched her. She seemed calmer now and he stood, backing to the door.

"Will you be okay if I go pick up a few things from my place? You can come with me, if you want."

The thought of leaving her house caused her chest to tighten and her head shook.

"No. I'll be okay. Just don't be long."

He gave her a reassuring smile and as he walked down the steps, he wondered if he was making a mistake.

* * *

"Taking a day off. Very unlike you, Jennifer."

Jenny froze as the low Scottish voice filled the room. Turning, she saw him standing in the doorway to her room and shook her head.

"What do you want? Why won't you just leave me alone? You're not real. You're not Ducky."

"Hmm...if you're quite sure."

He was silent for a moment and Jenny sighed, running her hand through her hair.

"I would think that you would _want_ to see me again. I've always loved you like a daughter, Jennifer. More importantly, I've never lied to you."

She whipped around and glared at the apparition.

"Jethro hasn't lied to me."

"No? Did he tell you about Shannon and Kelly when you were in Paris?"

"That was...that was different. He had his reasons."

"And now? Does he have _reasons_ now?"

Jenny frowned.

"What are you talking about? Jethro isn't lying to me."

Pacing her room, Jenny brought her shaking hand to her hair, pulling it harder than she intended. It did nothing to make the figure disappear and she sighed.

"Isn't he? You can't possibly believe that he really _wants_ to stay here with you. Face it, Jennifer, you're losing your mind. Aren't I proof of that? He doesn't love you. Jethro's a simple man, he wants a simple life. You're too complicated. He'd be better off without you."

Jenny bolted for the bathroom, locking herself in and screamed. Ducky walked through the door, solidifying her belief that she was indeed insane, and she shook her head.

"Stay away from me," she moaned.

"I'm not the one causing everyone pain, my dear. I'm dead, remember?"

Her gaze landed on the replacement blades for her razor and she reached for it. Hitting the plastic on the edge of the sink until it broke, she freed the blade and pressed it to her skin.

"Shut up. For God's sake, shut up."

"You know what you have to do, Jennifer. It's the best thing for everyone. And you're the queen of making difficult decisions."

Screaming, she plunged the blade deep into her arm, dragging it downward. Blood poured from her arm and she dropped the blade, horrified at what she'd done. Grabbing a towel, she attempted to stop the flow and when it became obvious that it wasn't working, she collapsed on the floor. Keeping her eyes open was a struggle, but they landed on Ducky as she crumpled near the sink.

"Long live the queen," he whispered.

* * *

As soon as he walked into Jenny's bedroom, Jethro knew something was wrong. There was no sign of the redhead and he smiled when he saw the light under the bathroom door. Knocking gently to let her know he had returned, he called her name softly.

"Jen? Are you okay?"

Every second that passed made him feel more uneasy and he knocked again.

"Jen, please answer me."

Silence.

"If you don't answer me, I'm kicking down the door."

Cursing softly, he swiftly brought his foot to the frame, kicking it as hard as he could. It resisted and he kicked it again. Over and over, he hit the wood and finally it splintered, crashing inward. Blood, deep and nearly black, pooled in the center of the room, completely covering the woman laying on the floor. A towel, once white now stained crimson, was next to her hand and he was by her side in an instant.

"Jen. Jenny, can you hear me? Open your eyes. Come on, Jenny."

He felt for a pulse and though it was weak, it was there. Wrapping her arm in a clean towel, he pulled out his phone dialing for an ambulance as fast as he could. After being reassured that they were on their way, Gibbs called another number, never once letting go of the woman in front of him.

"DiNozzo."

"Tony, I need you to meet me at Portsmouth. Be quick about it."

"Everything okay, boss?"

"It's not about me. I'll explain later."

"On my way, boss."

Hanging up, Gibbs returned his attention to Jenny. Her eyes had opened and though he wasn't sure, she seemed to be looking at him.

"Jenny? Can you hear me?"

"J-Jethro? I didn't...I didn't mean to."

He shushed her, wanting her to save her remaining strength but she weakly took his hand, needing him to believe her.

"I just needed it to stop. He wouldn't stop."

Suddenly, he understood and nodded, trying not to let her see the tears in his eyes. Her grip on his hand was weakening and he held it tighter. Where was that damn ambulance?

"Hang on, Shepard. Don't even think about dying."

He kissed her gently and her eyes found his through the haze of her pain. Jenny's front door flew open and Gibbs yelled down to alert the paramedics of their location.

"Sir, you need to step aside."

He nodded and when he stood, Jenny kept her weak hold on his hand. Leaning down, he brushed his lips against her forehead.

"Jen, I have to let them in. I'm not leaving, but I can't get in the way. I'll be right here. I promise."

She nodded and let him go. She was lifted carefully onto a stretcher and carried out of the room. Gibbs grabbed both his jacket and hers, following as closely behind as he could. When he locked her door behind him, he ran as fast as possible to his truck, hoping DiNozzo met him in a timely manner.

* * *

"Boss, what's going on? Is that blood? You okay?'

Gibbs glanced down. He hadn't even realised that he was covered in Jenny's blood until now. He nodded in the direction of a set of chairs away from the waiting room and Tony followed.

"It's not my blood."

"Whose is it?"

"Jenny's."

"She okay?"

Gibbs frowned.

"Not sure yet. Still trying to get her stable."

Tony looked at him seriously, his eyes locking with those of the older man.

"Was she shot?"

"Nope."

He pulled the younger agent as far away from any prying eyes as they could get and lowered his voice.

"What I'm about to tell you stays between us. Need to know. Got it?"

Tony nodded and Gibbs continued.

"Jenny has a history of self-harm. She'd gotten a handle on it for years and was doing fine. When I met her, she had scars, but nothing recent. Ducky's death has really hit her hard."

He paused, and Tony nodded understandingly.

"Ducky was like a father to her. Both of you, really. Makes sense that she's having trouble dealing."

"Yeah. Well, she's been drinking a lot more than usual, even at the office. She said that she'd seen Ducky in her office two days ago. Ducky once told me that seeing a loved one is a common symptom of grief, and at first I thought that was what we were dealing with. Apparently, this version of Ducky isn't like ours was. Her mind is messing with her, amplifying thoughts that she already had and making them worse, with Ducky as the mouthpiece."

"So...her vision of Ducky is trying to drive her crazy."

Gibbs nodded.

"I found her with a gun to her head two nights ago."

Tony laughed nervously and his eyes widened.

"She didn't...she wouldn't...would she?"

"She split the artery in her arm twenty minutes ago with a razor trying to make the thoughts in her head stop," Gibbs said dryly.

"Damn. I didn't know she'd been having such a hard time."

The concern in Tony's voice made Gibbs smile. Jenny would have been happy to know that her team cared about her.

"I'm going to take some time off. See if maybe I can help her. I need you to run things until I get back."

"Absolutely, boss."

As Gibbs walked away, Tony ran his hand through his hair. A thought occurred to him and before he could stop himself, he had called out to his boss.

"You and her got a thing going on?"

"Rule twelve, DiNozzo!"

* * *

Jenny fought the bright light as her eyes opened and when they landed on the figure next to her, she frowned.

"J-Jethro?"

His head snapped up at the sound of her voice and smiled at her.

"You're awake."

He leaned over, kissing her cheek and when she glanced down, she noticed his fingers were entwined with hers.

"How long have I been here?"

"About an hour. On-site psychiatrist will be here soon. Long as you can contract for safety, you'll be out in no time."

Jenny frowned, confused.

"How? Suicide attempts are kept on involuntary 72-hr hold."

Jethro flashed her a smile, shaking his head.

"Yours wasn't a suicide attempt, remember?"

Technically, she knew he was right, but she couldn't help wondering what he had told the doctor.

"What did you do?"

He shrugged.

"Told them that you were helping me around the house and slipped."

Jenny laughed, her head shaking in amazement. He had lied on her account to keep her from being locked up?

"Good afternoon, Ms. Shepard."

Jenny turned at the voice and found herself looking at a young woman in her early thirties with long light brown hair. Her smile was warm and Jenny automatically smiled back.

"How are you feeling?"

Jenny shrugged, immediately regretting the movement. Pain shot up her entire arm and she winced.

"Hurts like hell, but I expected that."

The young woman nodded.

"We can definitely give you something for that if you'd like, but before you can be released, I need you to answer a few questions for me."

"Of course."

"Now, your husband says that you were helping with renovations and that you slipped. Is that correct?"

Jenny nodded, refusing to look at Jethro.

"I'll be perfectly safe at home. I doubt I'll be of much use on the renovation front, though."

Laughing, the psychiatrist nodded.

"That's true. I would recommend taking it easy for a few days, and if at all possible, your husband should do most of the work around the house until your arm heals a bit more."

"Don't worry. She won't have to lift a finger," Gibbs said, taking Jenny's hand in his.

He brought it to his lips and the young woman smiled. After handing Jenny a few release forms to sign, they were left alone and as soon as the door closed, Jenny rounded on him.

"Husband?"

The laughter in her voice was clear and Gibbs shrugged.

"Wouldn't let me in otherwise."

"Haven't you been married enough?"

"Nah. Think I might have one more in me. Maybe. Someday. Who knows?"

Minutes later, Jenny was given permission to leave and when she finally looked down at her arm, she closed her eyes.

"How many?"

"42."

She sighed and he guided her to the door. They reached the waiting room and as he led her to his truck, he wrapped his arm around her protectively.

* * *

Jethro swept Jenny into his arms and carried her up to his front door, setting her down just inside the entrance. She smiled as he nodded in the direction of his living room and she made her way slowly to the couch.

"Jennifer, did you really think I would disappear so easily?"

Jenny placed her hands over her ears and closed her eyes tightly. Jethro silently walked up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Jen?"

She jumped and he frowned. He hadn't meant to startle her and when her eyes filled with tears, he knelt in front of her.

"What's wrong?"

"Look at me. I'm a fucking mess. I can't sleep, I can't go to work, I've got 42 stitches in my arm...what else can happen?"

He hugged her and she sighed against his chest. Pulling her to her feet, he led her to the basement steps.

"Come sit with me. We can talk if you want, or we can just enjoy the quiet."

She nodded and when she slid onto the seat by his worktable, she smiled. He picked up his sander and began working, glancing up at her occasionally. He poured a drink for them both without thinking and when her eyes widened, he suddenly remembered.

"Do—do you want me to toss it?"

She shook her head.

"I think I can handle one drink, Jethro."

He nodded and slid it to her. She raised it slowly to her lips and as the liquid burned a path down her throat, she sighed.

"I really fucked up."

Jethro turned to face her, and frowned. She wasn't looking at him, and he took the opportunity to really examine her. Her skin was pale from blood loss, her fingers shook around the mason jar in her hand, her eyes were slightly glassy and they were so sad that his own nearly filled with tears.

"You didn't fuck up, Jen. You wanted the pain to stop. That's not an unreasonable thing."

She looked at him then, and he took a step away from his boat. When she didn't protest, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her hair lightly.

"Let me help you. I don't want to lose you."

Jenny nodded against his chest and he pulled back, taking a drink of his bourbon. She finished her own drink and he held out his hand. Grasping it tightly, she frowned as he helped her from her seat.

"Jethro, what are you-"

"Shh."

He pressed a button on the stereo that she hadn't even known he had and soon, the soft voice of Frank Sinatra filled the room. "Witchcraft" floated to her ears and she smiled as he pulled her into his arms.

"Dance with me?"

"You don't dance, Jethro."

"I do with you."

He held her close, and when she rested her head against his chest, he smiled. They swayed to the soft music and as the last notes faded, he kissed her gently.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

He could tell that she was tired, and he led her to the stairs. Jenny frowned as they walked, wondering if he was already bored of her presence.

"You need to sleep, Jen. You're exhausted."

She nodded, allowing him to guide her to his bedroom, amused as always that he so rarely slept in this particular room of his house. She slid under the sheets and as he pulled out a pill bottle from his pocket, she was more confused than ever.

"What's that?"

"Pain medication. You're supposed to take one before you go to sleep."

Jenny shook her head, pointedly ignoring Jethro's glare.

"I don't need painkillers. I'm fine."

He sighed, holding out the bottle.

"For me, then?"

Jenny gave him a glare that rivaled his own and when she sensed that he wasn't going to back down, she snatched the bottle from his outstretched hand. Popping one in her mouth, she grimaced at the bitter taste and he smiled, kissing her cheek.

"Thank you."

Jethro walked out of the room as she settled back in the bed and she sighed as she closed her eyes. This hadn't been how she'd expected her night to end, but at least for now, the screaming in her head had stopped.

* * *

Looking in on Jenny two hours later, Jethro smiled when he took in her sleeping form. He quietly walked over to the bed and brushed her hair from her face, kissing her softly. His lips lingered for a bit longer than they probably should have, but he supposed it didn't really matter. He sat down on the edge of the bed, watching her sleep for a moment before reaching out to touch her cheek.

"I love you, Jen."

He made to stand up when Jenny grabbed his wrist, causing him to turn. He'd thought she was still asleep and when he heard her sleep-filled voice, he smiled.

"Stay."

Considering her for a moment, he nodded, gently lifting her into his arms. She was already falling back asleep and he smiled again at her words.

"Thank you, Jethro."

"What for?"

"Everything."

She moved her body impossibly closer to his and when her steady breathing filled the room, he tightened his hold on her.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, Jen."

* * *

Opening her eyes, Jenny was surprised to find Jethro still next to her the following morning. Didn't he need to be at work? Smirking to herself, she realised that it wasn't as though his boss were actually going to fire him. No, she was quite content to be resting in his arms, feeling his steady heartbeat against her ear.

She looked at his sleeping form and couldn't believe how peaceful he looked. Gone were the deep worry lines that never seemed to leave him, making him look ten years younger. Placing a light kiss to his temple, Jenny settled back in his arms, letting sleep overtake her once more. Work would simply have to wait. There were more important things to consider right now. And one of those things had her securely wrapped in his embrace.

* * *

**A/N: Reviews absolutely make my day better. Literally, they make me smile all day.**


	6. Careful

**A/N: Bet you thought I'd forgotten about this one. Nope. I'm re-watching season five of NCIS with my husband (who is seeing it for the first time) and we are six episodes away from Judgment Day...I don't know if I can handle losing Jenny again. It's going to make me cry just like it did when it first aired. Anyway, I own nothing. Merely borrow the characters for entertainment purposes. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Though it was against his better judgment, Gibbs made his way up to his bathroom. Jenny had left the basement to take a shower over forty-five minutes ago, and he was beginning to grow concerned. Knocking lightly on the door, he pushed it open, calling her name softly so as not to startle her. The room was thick with steam and it made it slightly difficult to breathe. He frowned as he surveyed the room. Something was off, and it wasn't until he glanced at the floor that he realised what it was.

"Jen? Didn't drown did you?"

There was a silence and for a moment, he was genuinely worried.

"Jen?"

"No, Jethro. I didn't drown."

Her voice was quiet and he ran a hand through his hair.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine."

He smirked, not believing her for an instant.

"That why you're sitting on the floor of the tub with your clothes on?"

Again, she paused for a second, and he knew she was trying to figure out how he'd known.

"What makes you think I'm fully clothed, Jethro?"

"Because I know you. You always leave your clothes in a pile on the floor behind the door when you take a shower. And when you cry in the shower, you always sit down."

He reached out, pulling back the curtain, revealing a soaking Jenny, her hair clinging to her skin. He smiled when he saw the wet fabric covering her body and she frowned.

"You really took that chance, didn't you?"

"Hey," he shrugged, his eyes on hers, "it's not like I haven't seen you naked before."

She sighed, wiping away the water as it hit her face and nodded. He studied her for a moment, and when he waved his hand, she frowned again.

"Move over."

She did as he asked, sliding towards the faucet and when he stepped into the shower, he smirked at her surprised expression. He sat down behind her, pulling her back into his chest and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"What's wrong, Jen?"

Jenny shook her head and leaned back against him. He kissed her cheek, blinking rapidly to keep the water out of his eyes and when she turned to look at him, he smiled reassuringly.

"I know you've been having a hard time, but it will get easier."

"I just miss him so much, Jethro."

He nodded, running a finger over her cheek lightly.

"I know. Try to focus on all the love and fun we had with him. He'd like that. Try to think about all the times we caused trouble in Europe."

"Like the time he pushed that French officer off the cliff?"

Jethro laughed and she smiled.

"Yeah. Did I ever properly thank you for stealing that boat?"

"You mean for saving your asses."

He kissed her again and nodded.

"Yeah, that. I know I might have acted like a bastard at the time, but I was so proud of you. You risked everything for us."

Jenny shifted in his arms and he could see the tears dripping down her face.

"If it had just been you, I wouldn't have."

He smirked.

"Yeah, you would've."

She paused, letting him believe she needed to think about it, and then nodded.

"You're right. I would've."

"I've always been proud of you, Jen. You're come so far and done so many incredible things. No matter what people have done to stop you."

She didn't answer, instead leaning back in his arms, her eyes closed. He could see the stitching that ran the length of her left arm and he frowned. She hadn't spoken about the incident much, and while he didn't want to pry, it still worried him. Watching her for a few minutes, he noticed that she seemed to be a bit better than she'd been when he'd found her, and he smiled as he maneuvered them slightly.

"Are you ready to get out of here?"

She nodded and moved to turn off the shower. As he stood up, he held out his hand to help her up. She grasped it weakly and it was only when she stood that he noticed the small swirls of red in the water.

"What did you do?"

She extended her leg and carefully peeled back the soaking fabric. A shallow cut ran the length of her calf and he reached for a towel. After he had cleaned the blood and placed a bandage over it, he looked at her seriously.

"Please, Jen. Talk to me. I know I'm not great with words like you are, but I want to help you. I'll listen."

Jenny nodded, resting her head on his shoulder. He guided her to the door, and as he started to lead her to the basement, she stopped.

"You know...we're still wearing soaking wet clothes. That could be major health issue."

He cocked an eyebrow, looking down at her with an amused glint in his eyes.

"Yeah? What're we gonna do about it?"

"Well," Jenny murmured, her voice low as she trailed her hands across his chest, "I think it would be in our best interests to remove the clothing before we catch a cold."

He hummed in response, backing her slowly closer to the steps leading to his bedroom.

"You might have a point there."

She stepped up on the first stair, now taller than him and she smiled. He backed her up again and looked down at her. Her hands went to his shoulders, loving the way they felt under her fingers, and the look in his eyes made her legs tremble.

"Jethro?"

"Hm?"

"Let's go upstairs."

He nodded, lifting her up and throwing her over his shoulder. She laughed in surprise and when they reached his bed, he dropped her unceremoniously onto the mattress. As he pulled her clothing from her body, she fought to keep her thoughts focused on the sensations his hands and lips were creating rather than the screaming she heard in her head.

* * *

"Tony, did Gibbs say when he'd be back?"

Tony shrugged, flashing a grin.

"No, he didn't, McNosy."

"Did he say why he left?"

Tony shook his head. There was no way in hell that he would betray Gibbs and Jenny's trust. He could feel Ziva's eyes on him and when he glanced at her, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. McGee returned to his computer, busy de-fragmenting the hard drive, and when Tony picked up his magazine again, he smiled.

Ziva frowned as she watched her partner, but said nothing. She knew he was lying about something, and she would have bet that it was linked to Gibbs and Jenny's absences. Her relationship with the Director had been strained since Ducky's death, but then again, Jenny had been shutting everyone out lately. Still, she decided that it wasn't worth invading her friend's privacy. She resumed reading her book, wishing they had a case to distract her from her boredom, and sighed. Maybe Jenny would come to her on her own.

* * *

Jenny pulled on an old shirt belonging to Jethro and quietly padded down the steps to the kitchen. Rummaging through the refrigerator in search of a drink, she nearly screamed when she turned around.

"Hello, Jennifer."

"Please...leave me alone. You're not real."

A soft laugh made her whimper and she ran from the room as quickly as she could, not even caring that she'd left her drink on the counter. She took the steps to the basement swiftly, praying she wouldn't fall, and when Gibbs heard her frantic footsteps, he frowned.

"Jen? What's wrong?"

She stopped just short of his body and closed her eyes tightly. He pulled her shaking body into his arms and kissed her hair.

"It's okay."

"I saw Ducky."

He nodded, holding her close as she tried to get her breathing back under control.

"What's wrong with me, Jethro?"

Her hands shook as she gripped his shirt and as she looked up at him, an immense sadness built within his chest.

"Nothing, Jenny. You're gonna be fine."

She buried her face in his shirt and he tightened his hold.

"Shh...I got you."

He led her to the couch in his basement and gently lowered her onto the soft velvet. He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his own.

"Jenny, look at me."

Agonisingly slow, impossibly green eyes met ice blue and he smiled.

"It's gonna be okay. I promise."

Her head shook, long red hair falling in her face. He brushed it back, his fingers lingering on her skin, and kissed her.

"I love you, Jen."

Without warning, Jenny stood and crossed to his work table, grabbing the bottle of bourbon. Gibbs frowned and straightened up, eyeing her warily.

"Jen..." his voice was a low warning.

She threw him a pained look over her shoulder and unscrewed the cap. Lifting it up to her lips, she took a long drink, daring him to speak. He slowly walked closer, reaching for the bottle and pouring a generous amount in his empty mason jar. As soon as he had finished, Jenny wrapped her lips around the bottle again, and held her breath.

She had drained nearly half the bottle when his hand on her wrist lowered it slowly. Her eyes were filled with tears as he gently took the bourbon from her and shook his head.

"Enough, Jen."

She reached across for the bottle and as he held it out of her reach, she frowned.

"Jethro, please."

"No."

"Who the hell do you think you are? I'm not a child."

He shook his head again and she tried once more for the bottle.

"Damn it, Jethro! You can't do this."

"My house, my rules. I'm not going to let you drink yourself into oblivion while you're here. You were doing so well. You can't just throw it away."

Eyes flashing, Jenny placed her hands on his chest and shoved him out of her path. Considering the amount of alcohol in her system, he was surprised at her strength. She stormed toward the steps, glaring at him as she began walking up.

"Why can't you just leave me alone, Jethro?"

As he heard her footsteps above his head, he sighed. Why couldn't she see that he was simply trying to help?

* * *

Though he'd never let her know, watching Jenny's downward spiral was beginning to have an effect on him. No matter how much he'd tried to help her, she'd blocked him at every turn. He tossed back the last of his bourbon and sighed. He slowly made his way up the stairs, silently pushing open the bedroom door and walked over to the bed. Jenny's hair was spread out across the pillow in a fiery waterfall and as he watched her chest rise and fall, he reached out to touch her cheek.

She shifted slightly, and he sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving her. When he leaned down to kiss her, he could see the glittering path that her tears had made as she'd cried herself to sleep.

"I just want you safe, Jen."

* * *

Gibbs tensed slightly as he felt Jenny's arms wrap around his waist from behind him. She placed a kiss between his shoulder blades and he smirked. He was perfectly willing to accept her apologies. After an appropriate amount of time, of course. He finished pouring his coffee and gestured to the pot, removing himself from her embrace.

"Coffee's fresh if you want it."

"Jethro, can we talk?"

He didn't answer her, opting instead to head for his bedroom to find clothing for the day. She stood alone for a few seconds before following him and when she finally found him, he refused to look at her.

"Jethro, please."

Brushing past her, he picked up his toothbrush and turned on the faucet. She reached over the sink and turned it off, fixing him with a glare.

"I messed up last night. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been such a bitch."

He raised an eyebrow at her and turned the water back on. As he brushed his teeth, he fought the urge to laugh at her frustrated expression and rinsed his mouth.

"Damn it, Jethro, will you say something?"

Continuing to ignore her, he began searching for a clean shirt. Just as he found one, her hand shot out to grab his wrist.

"Jethro."

He glanced at her and when he noticed how pale she was and how badly she was shaking, his eyes softened.

"Please. I know you were trying to help. Will you please forgive me?"

He studied her briefly and as he pulled his shirt over his head, he gave her a small smile.

"Already did, Jen."

As he walked out of the room, Jenny realised that he had played her. Shaking her head slightly, she made her way to the kitchen in search of coffee.

* * *

Tony couldn't contain his shock as his silver-haired team leader entered the squad room and when he motioned for him to follow, DiNozzo ran after him. Once they had reached the privacy of the elevator, Gibbs flipped the switch sending them into darkness.

"Had any trouble?"

"No, boss. Had one case, open and shut. Easy enough."

Gibbs nodded and Tony frowned, unsure of how to ask his next question.

"Boss? How's the Director?"

Shrugging, Gibbs fixed him with a look that he could only dare to describe as love.

"She's fine. Be back tomorrow."

He flipped the switch, the lift humming to life again and just before they stepped out, Tony spoke again.

"Give her a hug for me."

Gibbs nodded and made his way to his desk, wishing for a case. Maybe that would be enough to get his mind off of Jenny.

* * *

Gibbs cursed under his breath as he chased their suspect. He was never going to wish for a case again. Several gunshots rang out and a blinding pain ripped through his arm. A quick glance told him he had just been grazed, but it still hurt like hell. He kept running, and when Ziva tackled the man in front of his, he placed his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

"Got him, boss."

"You don't say, DiNozzo."

As the team made their way back to their cars, Gibbs winced at the wound in his shoulder. His phone rang and he answered quickly, not bothering to check the caller ID.

"Yeah. Gibbs."

"Jethro, why didn't you tell me that you'd gotten a case? Seems like something I should know."

He smirked at her tone in spite of the pain.

"It sounds like you do, Director."

"Wrapping up now?"

"Yeah."

"Boss, you should get that looked at when we get back."

Jenny could hear Tony's voice close by and she frowned.

"Get what looked at?"

"Our suspect was a little trigger happy."

"How bad?"

He shrugged, instantly regretting the movement.

"Had worse. I'll get Palmer to look at it before he leaves."

"Be careful, Jethro."

"Always am."

He hung up and as Ziva drove them back to the Navy Yard at breakneck speed, Gibbs suddenly felt more afraid for his life than he ever had when chasing a suspect.

* * *

Jenny searched through the basement, looking for the new bottle of bourbon she knew he'd bought and her eyes lit up as she found her prize. She knew that Gibbs had said his injury wasn't bad, she knew better than to trust his judgment. Breaking the seal, she blew into an empty mason jar and quickly poured a drink. The slightest twinge of guilt crept up on her as she drank, knowing that it was a mistake, but she couldn't stop. The telltale sound of footsteps signaled his return and as soon as she saw him, she let out a sigh of relief. He offered her a smile and as he stopped in front of her, she threw herself into his arms. He frowned at the uncharacteristic action and tentatively wrapped his arm around her.

"Jen?"

"I'm glad you're safe."

He laughed as she stepped back and he could smell the alcohol on her breath. Frowning, his eyes landed on the open bottle of bourbon and he sighed.

"I'm fine. Told you that."

"Jethro, you could be in an explosion and you'd still say you were fine," she pointed out.

Her words weren't slurred, so he knew she wasn't drunk, but the shine in her eyes told him that she was at least buzzed.

"Fair enough."

He glared at her and she frowned, running her hand through her tangled hair.

"What?"

"You've been drinking."

She didn't deny it and he kept his glaring eyes trained on her.

"I was worried."

It wasn't an excuse, merely an explanation and he nodded, leaning down to brush his lips over hers. She pulled him against her and as his tongue danced over hers, she moaned. When he pulled away, she smirked, running her hand over the bandage on his arm.

"Who'd you piss off?"

He shrugged.

"Everyone."

She was silent for a moment and when she spoke next, her voice was so soft he barely heard it.

"I'm sorry. I was stupid. I should have trusted you when you said it wasn't bad."

His hand connected with the back of her head and she gasped in shock.

"What did I tell you about calling yourself stupid, Jenny?"

Nodding, she reached for the bourbon and poured a jar full. He frowned, but when she handed it to him, he understood. Taking a drink, he allowed the liquor to steady hands that he would never admit were shaking. A sudden idea occurred to him and he smiled as he took another drink.

"What?" Jenny asked, seeing the look in his eyes.

"I thought of a way you could have a bit of this," he replied, raising his glass, "Come here."

She frowned as he took a drink and he pulled her closer, bringing his lips to hers. As he kissed her, he allowed some of the liquid to flow from his mouth to hers and she moaned as she tasted the delicious bitterness. Her fingers found his hair and she inhaled sharply as his lips trailed over her pulse point.

"Jethro, wait. We have to stop."

He pulled away, nodding as he looked into her eyes.

"Bourbon tastes better that way," she smirked.

As she left him to work on his boat, he couldn't stop the way his eyes followed the sway of her hips.

* * *

"Good morning, Director. Did you have a nice time off?"

Smiling at her young assistant, Jenny nodded, thankful for the long sleeves of her shirt. It was a deep blue, underneath a vest and even Cynthia took notice of how pretty she looked. She was still paler than normal, but she definitely looked better than she had the last time the younger woman had seen her. As she walked into MTAC, Jenny took a deep breath, mentally preparing for a long day of overseeing ops and meetings. There wasn't enough coffee in the world for this day.

* * *

As Gibbs entered MTAC searching for Jenny, he frowned at the sight before him. She was sitting in a chair near the middle of the room, and cradling her head in her hand as it rested on the armrest.

"You okay, Jen?"

She jumped slightly at his voice and sighed. He sat down next to her and waited expectantly. Sensing he wasn't going to back down, Jenny removed her headset and looked at him with tired eyes.

"I really need a drink," she whispered.

Even in the dark, he could see her hands shaking. If they'd been outside the office, he would have taken them in his own, but instead he shook his head, leaning closer to her.

"You can do this, Jenny. Take it slow."

Sighing, Jenny reached for her coffee only to find that it was empty. Gibbs took it from her and poured half of the contents of his own cup into hers, handing it back with a grin. She smiled gratefully and took a drink.

"How's your arm?"

He shrugged and lightly placed his hand on her knee. She glanced around the room quickly, thankful that no one was watching them. He let it rest there for a moment before standing and just as he was about to leave, he leaned down, his lips close to her ear.

"You need me, you call."

She nodded, returning her attention to the screen and as she rubbed her eyes tiredly, she could have sworn she heard Gibbs laugh quietly as he left.

* * *

Gibbs knew, as soon as the words came out of his mouth, that Jenny was going to kill him. He'd never been the best at dealing with the media, but as soon as the words "I don't give a damn" fell from his lips, it wasn't going to end well. They had no sooner returned to the squad room than Jenny had stormed down the stairs, her eyes livid.

"Uh-oh," Tony muttered, exchanging a look with McGee.

"This is gonna be bad."

"Special Agent Gibbs, my office! Now!"

Jenny didn't try to disguise the anger in her voice and as Gibbs strolled casually up the steps, she glared at his team.

"Nice to have you back, Director Shepard," Tony called.

* * *

The door swung shut behind Jenny and she immediately rounded on Gibbs, hardly able to contain her rage.

"What the hell were you thinking, Gibbs?"

He shrugged.

"Give me a break, Jen. That reporter was trying to talk to our witness before we could. He's lucky I didn't break his nose."

"Whether you like it or not, sometimes we have to deal with the press. I had to try to justify your actions to SecNav and all I received was the answer that I needed to control you better."

He smirked at that and she frowned.

"You need to _control_ me better? That can be arranged."

"Get your mind out of the bedroom, Jethro. This is serious."

He took a step closer to her, and when he was near enough, he placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Come on, Jen. You know it'll be fine."

She shrugged him off, going to sit behind her desk. When he walked around it, he hesitated only a moment before reaching out to free her hair from its ponytail. His fingers massaged her scalp and she frowned.

"Stop trying to get on my good side."

He leaned closer, placing feather-light kisses to her throat and along her jawline. She tried to move away, but knew it would be useless.

"I promise I'll make it up to you."

Though he knew she was resisting, he could feel her resolve crumbling. A light smile tugged at her lips and when she leaned back, he met her eyes warmly.

"Don't be mad at me, Jen."

His lips were warm on her throat and she sighed, closing her eyes.

"You owe me."

Hands still tangled in her hair, he smiled as she let out a soft moan. He spun her chair around so that she was facing him and kissed her, running his tongue over her bottom lip.

"I'll pay you back. With interest."

Giving her one last kiss, he walked toward the door, smiling at her as he pulled it open.

"Jethro?"

He turned, raising his eyebrow in question.

"You're really lucky I love you."

* * *

**A/N: Let me know what you think!**


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